Speak Softly
by Ruse
Summary: *Thank You to Reviewers* 1935: Ardeth Bay is called back from the dead to a world ruled by Imhotep.
1. The Gift

**Speak Softly**  
The Gift

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Though his skin felt distinctly cold, the first sensation he noticed was the burning. What had once been a lifeless body lain out to rest upon a stone bed was now changed. He drew breath, slowly at first but gradually increasing to take in enough oxygen to support life. Yet no one was here to witness such a miraculous event. He awakened to the world alone.

Jarring to life suddenly, his fingers wrapped around the edge of his hard bed. He had no memories of Heaven but without doubt something had been taken away from him. Some sense of peace that he could no longer bring to the surface of his mind.

The year he had fallen had been 1929, that he knew. That year rang through his mind so loudly he nearly covered his ears. His body tingled, but he did not deny to himself that he feared getting up. Surely this was hell and outside this cold room would be death and ash.

Ardeth Bay opened his eyes and blinked as only darkness greeted him. He had no sense of time; felt as though he could possibly be the only person left within the whole of the universe. When he could finally bring himself up from his rest the sound of his movement against the stone seemed harsh. His hands raced to meet his ears and for a moment all he could do was remain still, adjusting to this newness of life returned.

Rapidly the sensation of leaving some other place began to disappear until he finally questioned whether or not he had been dead at all. He swallowed and the use of his throat made him cough—a sound that echoed through the quiet. Whatever the case, dead or sleeping, he had not used his body in some time.

Dead. Memories of old rituals began returning to him. Ardeth felt of his clothes in the dark. He was dressed in his full formal desert attire, as any Med-Jai warrior would be in death. Strapped to his left side was his scimitar. These discoveries chilled him.

He brushed his long hair from his face and dropped his feet to the concrete below. Leaving this place tore at his heart, but without reason he knew he could not remain. Something outside pulled at him, so he stood and began walking. The darkness swallowed his sight completely, but by some intuition he seemed to know the way out.

Whenever he passed a room or niche in the wall where another body rested he seemed to know it, though how he could not say. Nor did he question it. Apart from the ache of awakening only numbness remained. Apathy and the pull of outside. Ardeth continued towards the exit to this place and the tingling all over increased.

A small, silent eternity passed until he turned down a hall and entered the final room of this great mausoleum. Vision poured in from the open entrance and he turned away, covering his eyes from the brightness, though what illumination came through was dim and gray. It took him long moments to adjust and even then he squinted as he turned back and let himself see the terrible light. It made him feel hollow somehow.

Ardeth steeled himself and pushed forward and outside. As soon as he passed the threshold a realization came and he closed his eyes once more. The fading echo of what had been Heaven left him when he let go and accepted the world once more. Where was he now?

The sky looked stricken and frightening. Around him sand covered the face of the earth, proclaiming he was still at home—still in Egypt, but the atmosphere here had never looked so gray. It looked as if the skies would weep with rain. The sight of the world was disturbing. Perhaps it was only he himself, but it seemed as if the very air had changed. Something was wrong with this place.

A structure upon the horizon caught his attention, something large and forbidding. Yet in this barren reality it was the only sign that life existed. The tombs of the Med-Jai were located upon a great hill, hidden by rock and shadow. There was only one way down. Before the entrance to the tombs lay a downward path and Ardeth began the descent.

The earth was quiet and lonely as he walked in silence. He began to long for someone else—anyone else, even an enemy—that would assure him he was not alone in this hell. There was nothing except the path and the looming building ahead.

Ten minutes passed until finally he came to the bottom of the hill. His brow furrowed in confusion at the sight that lay before him. Instead of the open desert there were stone tiles and pillars laid out and erected like some sort of maze. Through cracks in the pillars he could see other stones beyond. To leave this place he would have to follow the trail.

Ardeth exhaled and left the puzzle behind. Entering the labyrinth of stone, he walked and wondered what he would find beyond this place. He was growing weary of the quiet. If he were to live he wanted to be surrounded by life. Anything to fill the emptiness left in him. The air was chilly and that too bothered him, apart from everything else. The small journey through these odd, roofless halls welcomed another ten minutes of his return.

Just as he began to question whether or not this place had an end one presented itself. Near the threshold were carved words in hieroglyphic, reading: **The Footsteps Of The Blessed**.He ran his fingers over the chiseled words, wondering what on earth it meant.

Beyond that lay the open sand he had expected and the world looked frighteningly dead. But even as bothersome as that was it did not hold his attention for very long. Below him was a small form, female and unconscious. She lay on her side with one arm sprawled from her body. Upon her hands and arms he saw blood; marks covered her body in what he could only guess were cuts from a whip meeting her flesh. She was dressed in scanty clothing, clothing that seemed ancient and lovely on such a form.

Her pale skin gleamed beneath her blood and clutched to her chest was the Book of the Dead. Ardeth knelt down at her side and brushed her dark hair back away from her face. What he saw drew a gasp. Quickly he felt for a pulse and was greatly relieved when he felt the rhythm of life. "You live," he whispered, brushing his fingers across her cheek gently and feeling grateful that the first face he should see would be a familiar one. Hers was a face he hadn't seen but a few times since Imhotep had been raised and put down again.

She stirred slightly but did not come to. Ardeth turned his dark eyes towards the vastness ahead and the fortress in the distance. His friend needed medical attention, but something did not feel right. A breeze brushed through his hair and over his face as he considered his options. She did not appear direly wounded. Travel could wait until she awakened and he understood this world a little better.

Ardeth eased her to her back and pushed his strong arms beneath the crook of her knees and her shoulder blades. Cradling her to his chest, he stood and turned back towards the labyrinth. Evelyn Carnahan lay limply in his arms with the Black Book in her lap. So it had been she that had awakened him from his rest. Something was happening out here in the desert that she must have felt required his attention. Something very important, otherwise she would not have disturbed him. But what could be so terrible?

He looked down at her face, troubled even in sleep and lovely, and wondered where her brother was. Where O'Connell was. Her clothing was very revealing and it hit him she would never have worn such an outfit by choice. Something was very wrong.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: The Mummy and The Mummy Returns belong to Stephen Sommers. All original characters belong to me, and will be listed as they appear. This plot is the property of "Ruse" Angela J. Drews. No infringement intended.

**A/N**: Review! Review my little radishes! Lol. JK. Mmmm, but we would feel honored to receive feedback, mmm, yessss, my precioussss. Does this little beginning appeal to anyone or should I kill it now?? :O Thanks. :D

Anyway, against my better judgment, I've decided to post this now instead of waiting until "Passion" is done. My Buffy/Mummy fic = backburner if this story is worthy enough to merit interest. If not, we'll have to see. Anyway, since "Passion" is nearing completion, I sucker you into "Speak Softly". ;)

-_Angela _ __


	2. Bringer of Life

**Speak Softly**  
Bringer of Life

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Lightening illuminated the great throne room as if the many blazing torches weren't enough. Jonathan shivered against the hardened stare of his master. "Where is she?" the king asked in dark tones, never moving his gaze from the shivering Englishman before him. Those eyes were always cold, always devoid of mercy and compassion. Jonathan hated being in the same room with this man.

He licked his lips and shook his head. "I-I don't know." Wherever she was he was thankful it wasn't here.

Imhotep leaned forward from his throne and glared. He slowly turned his head from side to side, looking at the creatures of Anubis he was now master of. "Find my slave," he commanded, and then looked again to Jonathan. "If she is not returned to me, _you_ will answer for it." A loud crack of thunder broke the silence after the priest's threat as if to confirm the danger. (It was whispered that with his unearthly powers, his displeasure could be reflected by even the weather.)

Imhotep leaned back against his large chair and rubbed his temples. "Take him to his rooms and lock him there. He is not to leave until she is found."

Two creatures came forward and gripped Jonathan's arms, yanking him towards the grand doors. They pushed him into the halls and on towards his quarters. Thank God she was gone from here. He didn't know where she could be or how she had escaped, but the relationship between she and Imhotep was unbearable for him to watch. She was better off anywhere but here, even dead.

Jonathan Carnahan was ushered into his quarters and a loud click made it very apparent they had locked him in. Thankful he was still alive, he shakily moved to stand in front of his barred window. The storm outside looked quite inhospitable, as did everything in this terrible place.

Was she somewhere out there in the barrenness that was Egypt? What could she hope to find out there in the sands that held death and despair? The few settlements out there were violent and unwelcoming. She likely would end up a slave to someone possibly no better than Imhotep himself. But perhaps that wouldn't matter to her.

Imhotep frightened her badly with his strange ways and mind games. Another master to whom she meant nothing would be better than the priest. His obsession with his sister drove him to dark things that hurt her far worse than things an apathetic stranger might do. Maybe by some miracle she could find happiness somewhere out there. Maybe that was a load of rubbish. In any event she was better off for what little life she may have left. 

Grunting, Jonathan kicked at the wall and stared sadly out the window. "Run far away, Evy. Don't ever come back here."

*

Ardeth sat against the wall, listening to the wind howl around the corner. Evelyn lay beside him, still sleeping. He had brought her back to the crypts and kept her near the entrance where the light was. Right now a storm went on outside unlike anything he had ever seen in Egypt. Electricity charged the skies and a great rain fell as it hadn't in ages. He would be out there now letting it wash him if it weren't for the woman who lay beside him.

Even though there was nothing here to harm her, he wanted to be close to her. She was alive and somehow it gave him comfort from his confusion and emptiness. He enjoyed watching her live because he himself felt as though he weren't alive. Nor did he feel dead, however, but somewhere caught between. Life was something, death would be something. He felt as if he were nothing, unnatural.

Thunder rolled and he exhaled, watching flashes travel the walls. The lightening was cold and hard, the thunder jarring. Ardeth closed his eyes and wanted for rest. Perhaps death would return with sleep. But Evelyn needed him. That alone tempted him to keep his eyes open, but whether or not he did likely wouldn't matter. He was back and would remain for some time.

Suddenly Evy stirred and a hand hit his thigh. Ardeth looked down and watched as she opened her eyes. Her hand tightened around his pant leg and those dark eyes filled with emotion when she saw him. "Thank God," she breathed, then braced herself on his leg and sat up. In an instant her arms were around his waist and her body hugged into his warmly. Evelyn rested her head against his chest and stayed that way.

He touched her hair and gazed ahead at the wall. Questions flooded him, but he could not bring himself to speak just now. Her life seemed to echo through his senses and it felt nearly intoxicating. He clung to that.

Finally after some time had passed she said, "I didn't know if it would work after so long."

So long? How long had passed? It was just another question on his list. But there was another more important question on his mind. "Why did you wake me?" This was the second time he had spoken since earlier—since he had returned. His voice seemed out of place in the quiet.

"You're going to hate me," she replied in a voice that had accepted what she said. Her arms around him tightened slightly. "I've done a terrible thing by waking you up, Ardeth, but I just didn't know what to do. You are the only thing he fears."

He let her words sink in. No, he doubted he could hate her no matter how terrible she thought her waking him was. She obviously needed him and he wouldn't deny a friend. Not when there was such hopelessness in her voice. "What's happened, Evelyn? Even the weather has changed."

Evy remained silent for a moment as her body became limp against his. Obviously she drew as much comfort from him as he did of her. He wondered what she needed comfort from and thought about the white, revealing clothing she wore. His mind shuddered away from what possibilities came to him. "So much has happened it's hard to know where to begin," she answered finally. "Do you remember 1929?"

The truth was he did not. He could recall major life events throughout his years, but the events leading to his death were a blur. Yet he knew that was what she was referring to. There was a shadow in that part of his mind. "My…death happened in that year, didn't it? I don't remember it."

"We got a letter," she began what he knew would be a likely sad tale. "Jonathan and I had been home from dinner out for about an hour when a knock came at the door. When I opened it I saw a Med-Jai. His face was dark and pained as he held up an envelope and as soon as I took it from him he left without a word." She paused for a breath. "You died in October, the 5th to be exact, fighting a group of unknown raiders, people who have more to do with what is happening now than we had first thought.

"Their purpose for attacking the Med-Jai encampment had been to kill you and they had succeeded. The man who composed the letter, Raheem I think his name was, he said you fought bravely and saved many that day, but unfortunately you couldn't save yourself. A man we later learned went by the name of Lock-Nah had shot you and k-kicked you in the head." He felt her arms tighten and to tell the truth he felt like hugging her back. Waking from death was disorienting enough without hearing how it had happened. But he was curious, so let her continue. The thunder crashed.

"You fell unconscious and died that night without ever waking. The next day after receiving that letter Rick showed up on our doorstep, asking if we were going to attend the…the funeral." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "We went and that was that. Time passed and 1933 rushed upon us before we could blink. Before we were ready for it, that's for sure. Do you know what 1933 is to the Egyptian calendar?"

His mind was still reeling from the fact that he had been dead nearly four years, possibly more if this wasn't where the story neared present. Her face was still young, though. He searched through Egyptian history that had been passed down until it came back to him until an answer came. "The year of the Scorpion."

He felt her nod against where she was pillowed, still holding him through her story. "Ancksunamun reincarnated came that year with Lock-Nah and his people. The Med-Jai could not stop them, and they raised Imhotep to fight the Scorpion King. Despite losses—including Ancksunamun herself, the victory came to him. The armies of Anubis became his own and with them he conquered Egypt, then moved onto the rest of the world. That started two years ago."

The creature had been raised and had done all the terrible things they had fought to stop back in 1923. Ardeth blinked at that defeat, but it proved one thing. Death truly could be only the beginning and he himself would become a living example of that fact. "Does he rule the whole of the world now, Evelyn?" he asked, not sure what he alone could do against such odds.

Now she finally sat up and he saw her eyes glistening in the small light offered from the entrance around the corner. "As well as if he did, I suppose," she returned sadly. "Oh there are a few countries still fighting him, but just like all the others they will fall. Everything has changed…all places are becoming desolate, barren wastelands because out of fear of Imhotep the people leave the cities and hide. He burned Cairo to the ground for their disobedience."

That was a chilling thought. "He is that powerful?" Ardeth breathed, trying to come to grips with this terrible reality.

Evy nodded her head and looked him over as if still trying to make herself believe he was alive. "More powerful than we could have imagined. The world threw everything at him and was no match for his magery. He has a barrier around Egypt that no one can cross without the proper spells. It kills instantly. He has dominion over the weather. Nothing is the same as it was. Nothing."

She sighed and looked at the floor, then back into his eyes gravely. "Some countries allied with him out of fear or desire of power and as I said, some still try to fight, but in the end it never matters. We're all his slaves no matter where we come from." Her eyes grew soft and regretful. "I've taken you from Heaven and brought you to Hell. I can see it in your eyes when I look at you. Please…please forgive me someday."

They were alone in the world to handle the priest themselves, quite possibly just he and Evy. That didn't explain what she thought he could do about it, though now that he was here he would likely die again trying for her. "I will help you, but I don't know this world anymore. You must help me understand what it is you want me to do." Her words played back in his mind. "You said he fears me?"

"Yes," she whispered, visibly at odds with the choices she had made. Evy rubbed her arms as a chilly breeze swept through the darkening place of the dead. "He fears you for the same reason you were killed back in '29 and the same reason there's a maze out before the ancient burial grounds. Ancksunamun had a vision of Imhotep dying at your hands. That's why she sent Lock-Nah and his men after you."

Ardeth exhaled and looked at her. "To eliminate the threat before I even knew the danger. What of the labyrinth outside at the foot of the hill? There was an inscription there."

Evy nodded at that and he was thankful she hadn't come without knowledge of the things he desired to know. Her eyes glanced towards the end of the hall where the final room was. "Imhotep put that labyrinth there, using his knowledge of the dark spells of Egypt to lay a curse on those stones. Anyone who walked there was to find death. I don't know who put the inscription there, but along with the Book of the Dead I was sent a message saying the curse had been nullified to those of a pure heart."

"I found you at the threshold of the maze," he told her, wondering why she hadn't dared to enter under those circumstances. "Surely you have a pure heart. I carried you through there and you survived."

She looked away and for a moment he left his ache behind, his heart going out to her. "I took away your peace," she breathed finally, not meeting his gaze. "I was bringing you back only to get you killed again. How could I…how could I think that was okay? I didn't feel very 'blessed' when I did what I did, Ardeth. This place is so terrible and I can't see how we can possibly fix it." When she could bring her eyes up to his he saw tears on her cheeks. "There is no hope and that's my gift to you."

Impulsively Ardeth drew closer to her, unnerved by so drastic a change in her. This woman had stayed in Egypt to face Imhotep alone O'Connell had told him, when the ex-Legionnaire himself had tried to convince her to leave and threatened to leave her behind. She had been so brave back then and obviously still brave enough to wake him when Imhotep would likely kill her if he found her. The Med-Jai touched her chin. "You have hope, otherwise you would not have brought me back at all. Draw strength from that, Evelyn."

At that she smiled and touched his hand. "It's been so long since anyone but Jonathan has called me that. Imhotep insists that I answer to the name 'Nefertiri' because that's how he knew me back in ancient times." Her eyes darkened at the mention of the priest.

He didn't like the sound of her voice when she spoke of him. She hadn't told him where she had come from, but at some point Imhotep had caused her to hate him in a more personal way. "He is in the building I saw to the north?" Evy nodded and he let his hand fall from her face. "Then we'll go south."

Her eyes widened and she fervently shook her head. "No, Ardeth. I won't take you south, not for any reason. It would be better to stay in here and die."

"What is in the south?" he asked, almost afraid to know the answer. Imhotep owned Egypt and in that were probably some very frightening realities.

Evelyn's head dropped again, her eyes cast down to hide her sorrow. He felt his pulse race, but didn't press her for an answer. "I don't want to take you that way," she told him in a soft voice. "It's a large graveyard."

Evy shivered and he removed his Med-Jai cloak, wrapping it around her naked shoulders. He didn't need to ask her who lay out there. Her pain was now for him. "Where will we go? To stay in here would only bring us death, Evy. What of the east and the west?"

She shook her head and wrapped the gold and black cloak around her snugly, covering her lips and nose from the cold. "Imhotep has guards out there. I was lucky to make it. Our only path is south, but…"

What was could not be changed, no matter how it might hurt him. He could appreciate her not wanting to cause him pain, but during a war that luxury wasn't affordable. He would not return to life in vain. "We will go south if that is the only way. Beyond the graves are there places we might hide?"

"Yeah," she breathed out. Her fingers toyed with the edge of his cloak. "There are places along the way we can take refuge in, until we get further from the capitol. There are some places in Egypt were his control is not complete simply because he doesn't care. We can blend in for a time until we reach the people that sent me the Book."

"Who sent you the Book?" he asked.

She shrugged and laughed bitterly. "I'm not sure. I think it might be some sort of resistance force, but who knows? Maybe Imhotep himself was trying to lure me into a trap. I hope not."

Ardeth shook his head at that. "If he fears me as you say he does, he surely would not have let you wake me. You would already be dead. We'll find these people and see what they have to say." Evy nodded, but still looked afraid. He touched her hand. "I will protect you, Bringer of Life." He smiled to assure her that wasn't a rebuke. At first that guilt returned, but soon after her face peeked over her collar and her lips returned his expression.

He looked towards the exit and back again. "Night is approaching. When is safest to leave?"

"Night," she sighed, looking weary. "But Imhotep probably has his creatures out looking for me. I ran away from his palace. We should probably wait."

Ardeth shook his head, looking to the bag that had been strapped to her shoulder. There was food in there, but not enough to support them through an extended journey. "How far is the nearest friendly settlement?"

She bit her lip and that hopelessness returned to her dark eyes. "The field of the M…um, dead is at least half a day's walk. After that I can't be certain of how long it will take to reach people." 

After being newly raised just how long could a body go without food? He couldn't guess. They had enough food between them for three days if they were very careful. She rubbed her palms together and he thought of the blood he'd wiped off of her. Staying here for too long wasn't an option. Still, she looked so tired. "Rest for a few hours and then we'll leave. Perhaps the cover of a storm will keep us safe from eyes."

Evy smiled smartly at him. "Or the lightening could make us very visible, not to mention if it strikes one of us."

That reminded him of the Evelyn he had known so long ago. He smiled back and nodded to the floor beside him. "Sleep and when it's time to go I'll wake you."

"Won't you rest?" she asked him as she began to settle in nearby.

At that Ardeth couldn't help the distance in his eyes as he searched for memories of the past six years. "I have already rested too long," he replied, bringing his attention back down to her. She watched him for a moment with that same wonder from earlier and he playfully put his hand over her eyes. "You'll need your sleep." When he took his hand back they were closed.

~~~~~~~****

**Author: **Angela – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com** Disclaimer**: No infringement intended.

**A/N**: I hate making Imhotep bad. *Sob* Hehehe. I considered making the Scorpion King the big bad, but chucked that idea. But anyway, I've done Meela bad, Ardeth bad for a time and even Jonathan…right now I can't think of a way to make Ricky bad, but who knows. Since I try to use only canon characters for majors, the evil fell to Imhotep this time around. *Sigh* What's this world coming to, making hot mummies evil? Anyway, here is this. :O

**To Reviewers**:

They came to me as a gift! My love, my own…my precioussss! Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you guys thought the first part was interesting. :-) This is gonna be quite a long story I foresee, so I hope it's always interesting! Thank you very much and please, continue letting me know your thoughts on where it's headed.

**Pol**, **Nicky**, and **Insane Dragoness**--(like that handle!) – Thanks for your reviews…I'm glad you enjoyed and hope you'll enjoy what's to come.

**Patty** – Thanks for the review! Early on in Ardeth's adventure. Someday—if people would like to hear the tale, I might go back and write about Ardeth's last days…how Imhotep came to power and took Evy and so on.

**Auratwyn** – It focuses heavily on Ardeth and Evy. ;-) Na more shell I say. :-D Thanks!

**Marcher** – sowwy 'bout that. ;-) You'd better not delay in your stories…or I heff to git you. Thankie!

**Hadassaknamu** – Yes…she brought back Imhotep's Fear. Muahahaha! I mean although Immy is quite the hottie, I could understand him being threatened by Ardeth's beauty. ;-) Thanks for the review!

**J-James** – Well, I think this basically answered all three of your questions. Lol. I hope this doesn't mean you won't have more later and stop reading. :-O ;-) Thanks!

**Lula** – Hehehe. I live to tease. ;-) Thanks for your kind words and encouragement of my stories. :-) I'm heppy you like! Nag, huh? *screams like SpongeBob*

**Marxbros** – Thanks!!! I'll try and write fast. Lol…just expect this to progress a bit faster. :-)

**Deana** – Thanks for reading and reviewing, my friend…and for the reading beforehand and helping me keep it sane! ;-) lol. And as always, reminding me of the things I forget to add, such as mentioning of injuries and so forth. Oh, the forgetful mind. ;-)

__


	3. Hiding Place

**Speak Softly**  
Hiding Place

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evy brushed her hair away from her face, standing somewhat apart from Ardeth as he watched the rains fall outside. She could tell he was reluctant to begin this journey. She could tell a lot of things about him. He was the same Ardeth Bay he had been before 1929, but there was also something different about him. It was as if he still didn't believe this was reality.

She could hardly blame him for that. There were times herself when she just stopped and seriously questioned her sanity. This was like something out of a nightmare. Who could have ever predicted Imhotep would rise again from the grave with such a vengeance? Who would have thought he would prove so unstoppable? Now the world knew demons weren't just stories or fallen angels trapped below. They could rise and change life before anyone could blink.

Imhotep had certainly changed her life, that was certain. After Ancksunamun had fallen at the hands of the Scorpion King the priest's eyes had turned to her because of the simple fact that in a past life not so long ago she had been Nefertiri. He gifted her the memories and from that she learned he had lusted for her even then, before the concubine had come into their lives. But back then she had been Pharaoh's daughter and up until Ancksunamun he felt he didn't have any reason to risk his high position.

Now there was no pharaoh to protect her from Imhotep. He _was_ the pharaoh and he had lost his lover. He blamed her for all these troubles because she had screamed out while watching him murder her father. Now he wanted her to pay for it. Evy shivered and leaned against the wall, conscious that Ardeth's eyes were on her now, watching.

He looked at her often and she wondered idly what was going through his mind when he did so. Did he hate her? Sometimes she caught him looking off with emptiness in his eyes as if he was searching for meaning again. Her heart hurt for him. No one had been able to stop the priest, though. No one.

Late a few nights ago a package had been placed in her room and how it had gotten there without being checked she couldn't even hazard a guess. Imhotep would never let her have anything without personally inspecting it himself. What she had found inside made her gasp. A new responsibility had just been thrust on her and she had instantly become afraid of being unable to do it. The unlocked Book of the Dead was inside the box and a paper reading: **The curse has been lifted to those who are pure. Raise Ardeth.**__

She knew why Ardeth's grave had been warded off—Imhotep liked to talk to her and tell her of his conquests, reasons and ideas. The priest was afraid of the Med-Jai because his lover had seen him killed by Ardeth in a dream. And now she had been called to wake Imhotep's fear. Her master would cause her pain unimaginable if he caught her doing such a thing. Yet how on earth could she refuse?

The world needed her to do this, needed Ardeth to return, yet the whole time she snuck from the palace and made her way to the place the Med-Jai had buried their dead before 1933, she had questioned herself. The world needed him, but what if this broke him? What if he couldn't even return to Heaven? What if he couldn't handle this world as it was?

Then there was the south pass—a huge battlefield where the valiant Med-Jai had ceased to be a society. Not only did they die there, but also were mocked there. Imhotep in all his glory had set up their bones with chains in a demeaning and horrifying example to the world of what would happen if he were denied his power.

Ardeth would see that soon. There wasn't any other path to safety and to go around would likely get them caught. No one entered the Field of the Med-Jai. They would be safe there. Safe except for Ardeth's heart—he would see what had befallen his own people. He was now the last Med-Jai. She desperately didn't want him to see it.

He stretched out his hand towards hers and she reached out from under his cloak, taking it. "It's time," he announced in a low tone. Ardeth drew the hood up around her head, then pulled her out into the storm.

"Take your cloak back," she told him, moving to take it off. He wore now only his pants and a gold embroidered robe. She didn't want him to want for anything if she could help it.

The Med-Jai shook his head with a smile, his dark hair beginning to stick to the sides of his face. "You wear it, Evy. There are worse things than rain."

That had not changed. Ardeth would give a friend anything they asked of him, even to his own discomfort. She hadn't realized just how much she missed this man. He was so kind and giving. So undeserving of the death he had been given. Undeserving of having his reward taken away. With a soft sigh she pushed that thought away. It could not be undone. Instead she thought of earlier times, before the darkness of his death.

After a time a chuckle escaped her lips despite the heaviness inside and he turned his head. "What on earth are you laughing at?" he asked, which only increased her grin.

"I was thinking of the last time I saw you," Evy replied with a tart little smile and a shake of her head. 

Her companion rolled his eyes and laughed. "I blame O'Connell for my falling into that thorn bush. If he had not panicked about that scorpion, I wouldn't have jumped back." He gave her hand a little squeeze as they descended the hill. "I still have scars in places."

They continued on in silence for a time and then came to the labyrinth. Evy stopped and stared at the entrance, feeling apprehensive. "I don't know, Ardeth. I…I did something that wasn't supposed to be done."

The Med-Jai considered her words and her expression, then nodded softly. "I believe you to have a pure heart even still, Evelyn Carnahan, but if you fear it so, then I will carry you." He smoothed his hair back and sighed heavily. "If I lose balance I will, of course, have to drop you to keep from falling and hurting myself." Those dark eyes glinted mischievously as lightening flashed.

Humor was such a rare thing in these days. His refreshed her and gave her hope. "Oh, honestly," she chided, slapping his shoulder as he bent to gather her. He picked her up and she looked at her toes. "Heavy rain in Egypt is something you'll have to get used to. Treacherous sand sticks to everything."

He smiled and entered the dark, stone maze. "Including bare feet, I see. Is this another one of Imhotep's tricks?"

"Yes," she breathed, thinking back on the priest. This was one of his supposedly more noble projects, though it bred evil as well. "It's taking a lot of time and much of his power, but he's chipping away at Africa's land to draw the ocean closer and create more water in Egypt. So far he's succeeding, but it's going to take a very long time for Egypt to change into what he's seeking."

Ardeth watched the path ahead and exhaled. "It must be affecting the balance on the outside world. I did not know his power could be so great."

Evy wiggled her toes as rain fell on them. "His power affects everything. You saw the sky when you came out of the…the tomb, didn't you?"

"Yes," he answered with a grunt, making a right turn and keeping himself from slamming her feet against the wall. "It was dull, gray and stormy."

"It never changes, so matter where in the world you go or what the weather. He's done something to the sky, something he calls 'Eternal Sorrow'. He says he has forced Ra to abandon the world and without the light of the sun, the people will lose hope and fall to the powers of the underworld." The darkness in her voice made him hold her nearer to him. The idea of an absent sun startled him.

Ardeth pushed the missing beauty from his memory, but felt the effects of this 'Eternal Sorrow' already weighing on his heart without having to see the evidence. How could they hope to put an end to a being so powerful? "Is there nothing that can stop him? Maybe I can, as you say, but the answer to how eludes me."

Evy gasped as he almost slipped, but thankfully before anything disastrous happened he regained his footing and she answered. "As far as I know he is still subject to the weaknesses of the Hom-Dai, including mortality by the Gold Book."

"Let me guess," he said darkly, before he could think to hide his troubled heart from her. "The Book of Amun Ra is destroyed, making the task before us more difficult."

She shook her head and rested against his shoulder. "If that's what we need, it'll be hard, but the Book exists. It can't be destroyed, as my master found out not long after his ascension to 'greatness'." Evy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Neither Book can. Didn't you know that? I had thought you would have at least tried to destroy them to keep Imhotep dead."

Bay shook his head at that. "No, we did not. We held them in reverence of the past. You said if that was what he needed it would be hard?"

The Book was missing. No one but Imhotep knew where it was and the priest liked it that way. He took great pains to keep it secret—even from her. "Yes. He sort of tucked it away for safekeeping. I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Yes," he said, then quieted again.

She studied his face as he thought through everything she had burdened him with, watched him until he looked down at her. "I'm so sorry," she told him sincerely.

Ardeth shook his head at that and they cleared the maze. He set her down on the sand. "I am sorry I was not here to help you before."

They shared a long look, then his eyes dropped and he started to pass the large hill on its west side. Evy drew the cloak around her and followed him, concern growing within her. "Ardeth," she began quietly, almost afraid to mention it. But she had to make sure. He turned his head as they walked. "Ardeth, you know what's ahead of us, don't you?"

His dark eyes left hers and turned towards the path before them. He smoothed his wet hair behind his ears and nodded in a quiet, almost innocent way that made her heart pang. "You seemed very reluctant to take me there. How could I miss what was unsaid?"

Evy took a hold of his robed arm and stopped him. The rain fell down on them steadily and thunder crashed. "Ardeth, it's not a pretty sight. I saw it when the battle was freshly over, but even though time has worn them away, it's not good."

"But it is our path," he told her, then began again. His dark eyes were downcast and the momentary feelings of humor and gladness of old friends meeting again died down, leaving solemn quiet.

She had been down this road before, only once. Riding in the back of a car with Imhotep's hand curled around her wrist like a steel vice. If it were midnight now, they would likely stand before the graves by daybreak. It was not a pleasant sight at any given time, not by any means, but somehow she felt it might be worse in the dim gray of morning. The guilt struck her again as she risked a glance at him. Her friend had a hard road before him. _I'll make it up to you_, she silently promised, then looked away. She was starting to feel the chill set in.

~~~~~~~

His hands shook every day—had ever since the beginning of this nightmare. Rick O'Connell stood in the small room beneath the surface of the earth and looked once more to the clock on the wall. It was a stupid habit. Even if Evy had managed to get out of the palace of Imhotep, she hadn't had enough time to get here or anywhere near.

He lifted a cigarette to his mouth and took a breath of it. Every minute that passed in this quiet place was like another bullet being loaded into a gun pointed straight at his head. Rick hated waiting anymore. He had so little patience left.

Evy was his best friend, had been for seven long years. Seven years of having a family unlike he had ever experienced in his life. And now she was locked away with that evil bastard, suffering only God knew what. Jonathan's communications were scant, nearly one message every month or two. Imhotep had eyes all over Africa searching for him.

Rick didn't keep it secret who was behind the anonymous attacks that occurred from time to time, liberating and hiding slaves of the evil priest. He wanted Imhotep to know he was alive and well, still as big a thorn in his side as ever. Rick hated Imhotep like no one else. _He_ was the killer of Ardeth, the slave master of Evy and Jonathan, the bringer of destruction upon an entire continent and someday the world if possible. Sometimes he would fantasize about the ways he would make Imhotep pay.

But first he needed Evy and Jonathan safe. Scratching his arm and taking another puff of smoke from his cigarette, Rick walked to a mirror and looked himself over. He was going to have to shave. Nearly a week had gone by, leaving hair on his face.

Rick glanced at the clock again and back at the mirror, taking in his dark brown robes. To survive here one had to blend in and he could do it—from a distance. It was those blue eyes of his that got him into trouble when encountering Imhotep's people directly. The priest had ordered anyone found in Egypt with blue eyes to be brought before him. So far Rick had escaped that fate.

He had joined and now in some part led a small group of men and women who didn't like the thought of living under Imhotep's banner and were willing to do something about it. Some of them were younger than he, most being his age and a few older. In some ways they reminded him of the Med-Jai and he could sometimes pretend that he was back in the past, fighting with Ardeth in some battle against raiders. These people were now working on getting Jonathan out of the palace for the sake that he was Rick's friend.

He would give anything for a word—any sign that something was going right. O'Connell looked down at his shaking hands and to the clock again. "You're going to drive yourself crazy," a voice said with a chuckle. Ahamad the Cynical. He was sarcastic and held a poor outlook for the future. This man easily irritated Rick because sometimes he could feel that outlook rubbing off on him. He didn't want to picture Evy dead. The thought made him grit his teeth.

"Well, if it isn't Ahamad." He turned to the man and cocked his head back. "They send you to make sure I wasn't bouncing off the walls?"

The other man took a seat and propped his feet up on a nearby table. He remained quiet a moment, probably pausing for dramatic effect Rick thought, then smiled. "They aren't stupid, O'Connell. They know you have a lot on your shoulders. We see you worry for your friends."

Rick rubbed his forehead and glanced at the clock again. Ahamad took notice but said nothing. "I suppose I'm wrong for that, too. I should be cold and calculating."

The other man shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "They look to you to lead them because you've dealt with this evil before. Because you knew the Med-Jai and are as near to one as we're ever going to get."

"Is there a point you're trying to make," Rick retorted, also sitting and snatching a bottle of liquor from the table. He took a drink. "Or did you come to make me feel bad for caring? I'm not stupid either. I know you think I'm not focused on the bigger goal."

Ahamad didn't change his expression, but merely held his hand out for a drink. Rick gave him the bottle and he capped it. "My opinion doesn't matter, O'Connell, but these people either need you to fight for them too or to get out of here and do your own dirty work." He stood up, taking the bottle with him. "Mayadeh offers herself to you. I suggest you take her up on it. You need to relax."

Yeah, that's what he needed all right. To relax. He hadn't had the luxury in over a year; to sit and be Rick for a while. Maybe Ahamad had a point in that, but he was way off with his accusation that Rick was overlooking them for Evy and Jonathan's sake. If Evy got that Book safely and escaped, and if destiny played any part in this, then Imhotep might well be as good as dead soon. No, Rick had made a sacrifice there. He had put Evy in danger for the sake of waking Ardeth to kill Imhotep.

If she were discovered doing that Rick had no doubts what would happen to her. He looked up at the clock again. The good of the whole didn't escape him. He would pay for their freedom quite possibly with Evy's life.

~~~~~~~

Imhotep sat within the shadow of his throne room, his dark eyes trained upon the window. Morning was near and still there was no word on where his slave had disappeared. His fists clenched in irritation. How dare she hide from his anger after everything she had done? He gave her mercy by allowing her to live here in splendor, very nearly his own queen!

He sent a fist into a nearby goblet, knocking it to the floor with a splash. The red contents hit his feet and stained the bottom of his white robe. "My king is angry," came a voice from the right. An Egyptian man stepped forward with a bow. He was well clothed if Imhotep knew anything of this time's fashion. "Can one slave really cause you such unrest?"

Imhotep glared and exhaled. "Do not question me, Nashean. I am Pharaoh and you are but a servant. You know nothing of my thoughts."

Egypt's 'Advisor of Foreign Relations' smiled slyly and nodded his head. "Yes. I am your servant, Lord Imhotep. I am merely concerned for your kingdom, Majesty. We are getting closer." Nashean produced an envelope. "President Roosevelt wishes to speak with you, if you will let him. His letter asks you to be rational. The Americans are afraid because they are close to falling. General Hitler expressed as much to me in his correspondence."

"Rational," Imhotep repeated with dark amusement. He crossed his arms. "You will tell the leader of this nation America that if he wishes to meet with me, I will allow it. I will even cross the border to my palace in London."

The advisor widened his eyes. "My Pharaoh, you cannot do that. You are Imhotep and Egypt. Slaves should come to you and bow to your p…"

Imhotep held up his hand, already weary of this man's talk. If Nashean thought him a fool that could not see through his flattering words, he would someday pay for it. It was plain that the world was vastly different. A smart man would work with that instead of against it. "Hold your tongue before I order it cut out." Images of an ancient act done upon him came with that statement and the priest frowned in irritation. "I will be rational, as this president asks. A man that does not change with the times ultimately dies with his age. I will hear him out."

Nashean's face was dark. He did not want Imhotep reaching out to other countries or allowing any room for mercy. One day he would have to die—one day soon if Imhotep grew tired enough. The priest glared at him a moment in contempt. "No sooner than two weeks to prepare. Today I leave the palace to search for Nefertiri."

If Nashean had been annoyed before, his mood became fouler at that suggestion. He did not like Nefertiri. She feared her king as well she should, but sometimes in her boldness she offered him advice that he deemed worthy of his consideration. This sniveling weasel didn't like that because it took away from what little imagined control he thought he had. Still, the advisor remained passive and over-pleasing. "Let your servants handle that, my Pharaoh," he pampered.

The priest pushed himself up from his throne and ignored Nashean, calling for his guard. "Come, my servants. We seek for Nefertiri. She will not escape my wrath easily." He offered the advisor a meaningful glance, then swept through the throne room, his stained white robes flowing behind him. He would like his slave's counsel before meeting this leader of one of the last lands he was trying to conquer.

But also she had defied him and that was something he could not allow.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad and Nashean belong to me. **Author**: Angela – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com

**A/N**:

**To Reviewers**: Hmm, just to be clear on intentions, Evy knows it's important to get Ardeth to safety until they figure this out because right now his being able to stop Imhotep is one of the most important things in the world, but she hasn't like forgotten Jonathan. Nor has Ardeth forgotten he and Rick, but in his disorientation I thought it best to have him concentrate on direction from Evy for a time. :-) Anyway, just thought I'd say that. :-O Hehehe.

**Patty** and **JonnyCarnahan** – Thank you both for your reviews!!! Jonny'll get out of the palace eventually…I've got a plan for he and Rickybug. :-)

**Marcher** – Lol…why, "Beating Up Ardeth" is my middle name. ;-) I'm glad you like the way I handle him…and yes, I do always try to give out the TLC. ;-) There would be nothing in the world like petting him. *lesigh* Which way to the matrix??? Thanks!

**Hadassaknamu** – Actually, this isn't a sequel to 'Passion'. Evy and Immy's baby doesn't exist in this timeline…and I didn't wanna make him evil. I really didn't. In fact, the story was at first going to be him coming back to find the world in a shambles, but alas. Ardeth tempted me with his prettiness. ;-) Thanks!

**Deana** – Hehehe…well you know me. Love overwhelming him with impossible odds. ;-) *evil chuckle* Thanks!

**Marxbros** - Thanks! I'm glad you like the idea and was inspired by 'WWOW'. :-) Actually, you inspired me to write this…I was a little leery about posting it at first though, cause I wasn't sure if you'd think I was being a twit or some such, but after reading 'Hereafter' I was like…aaaw. I wanna make Immy evil! (Which, btw is an AWESOME story and anyone who likes this would LOVE **Hereafter**, so go reaaaaad it!!!) But anyway, I figured out story lines would be different enough where it wasn't like I was being a twit. ;-) Hehehe.

**Mommints** – Thankya…I'm glad you liked the descriptions. :-) I tried to capture weirdness as well as I could…lol. Anyway, I'd tell Ardeth anything he wanted to hear as long as I got to hold him. :-O Maybe someday I'll go back and do the past, as I said..but I wanted to begin with the shock of, "Holy cows…he was dead?" Lol. ;-) 

Thanks anyone else who is reading and enjoying. :-) Hope you'll drop me a note sometime in the future and let me know what you think.

-Angela ****


	4. The Field of the MedJai

**Speak Softly**  
The Field of the Med-Jai

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Daybreak was closing in upon Egypt, but the desert was still dark when they reached the beginnings of a shadowy area ahead. There were forms in the distance that Evy knew well. When Ardeth first looked up she had seen the realization in his eyes and it hurt her for him. Last night's rain was gone and the desert heat had begun to settle on the sand. The Field of the Med-Jai was foggy, but they could still make out a few of those forms.

For a long distance ahead and from side to side were a great many posts, Evy knew, for she had watched Imhotep do the horror they would endure seeing soon. The priest had strung the bodies—dead and surviving—up, each Med-Jai facing his palace in death, on their knees with hands tied above. They would forever watch over their pharaoh and bow to him Imhotep had suggested with a dark expression as his beasts had chained them up.

Their footsteps seemed unnaturally quiet to Evy and it made her sigh as they approached. She could pretend forever that they were still minutes away, but the closer they got her vision betrayed her, proclaiming the terror the Med-Jai had suffered. Her stomach hurt as the misty field grew closer.

Ardeth quickened his pace to walk ahead and she let him, not moving to catch up so he could see for himself. This man had a deep love for his people and honored the Med-Jai in ways she didn't know. This would be the hardest trial he would face and all because of her. When they came to the first post he stopped.

Evy stayed behind, watching as he looked upon one of his brothers, decayed and skeletal and head bowed. For a long time he stood there and took in the sight of his people. The wind picked up and sang in hollow whispers across the desert. She tucked her hair behind her ears and waited for his grief to manifest.

Slowly and so quietly she barely noticed, her companion stretched his hand forth and brushed his fingers across the post gently. She waited for tears and got none. He dropped his hand to his side and bowed his head.

Then suddenly he cried out in an anguished voice, ripping his scimitar from its sheath and slamming it into the post. Evy jumped, covered her lips and watched with wide eyes as Ardeth cut one Med-Jai down, then another and another. She could hear him making sounds of sorrow and rage as he ardently worked to free his people from their bondage. Tears formed in her eyes and she turned her head. His heart was breaking now.

The sound of his blade hitting the chains and wood echoed through the air with loud cracks, but it wasn't going to make him feel any better. They both knew it. Evy forced herself to look up when he threw the weapon away. He stood quietly between two posts with his head down and an arm covering his eyes. She could see his breathing coming fast.

Instantly she moved, rushing to his side to offer him any comfort he would have. Her hand softly landed on his shoulder and without a word he turned away and fell to his knees. "There's too many," he lamented in a thick voice bordering on the edge of tears. "I can't…I can't cut them all down."

"Oh, Ardeth," Evy whispered, walking around and kneeling in front of him. Tears raced down her cheeks as she watched him suffer. He looked as though he was fighting for the very air he took in. Her voice shook as she said, "I know. I'm so sorry. I know."

His dark eyes seemed to search the sand for answers he would never find and she took advantage of his grief-stricken state to push back the cloak and pull him into her arms. He gave in without a fight, wrapping his own around her waist and burying his face against her neck. "My people," he groaned in sorrowful, husky tones, as he held to her tightly. "What has happened to this world? This is hell. This is hell."

Evy stared over his shoulder into the fog, crying and searching for the right words to say that would make this okay for him. There were none. He was right. This was hell. The world needed this man, but this felt so wrong. He shouldn't have had to know this. Evy felt him shudder against her and her face crumbled into an expression of grief and hate. She had never hated Imhotep more than this moment. Not for anything he had done to her.

Ardeth wept with her, his hold around her never fading as if he thought to let go might usher in more loss. Long moments passed as they sat alone in the Field of the Med-Jai. It wasn't until his hands began petting her back that she realized the worst was over, though she could still feel him shaking. "I'm all right," he whispered against her skin, sounding every bit like he was trying to will that statement into reality.

He was not all right, but she didn't have the heart to say it. Evy ran her fingers through his dark, still wet hair and nodded. She couldn't bring herself to speak yet.

"Thank you," he finally added, laying a kiss on her exposed shoulder. It sent a jolt through her. No other man than Imhotep had ever kissed her there.

Instantly the moment seemed to change, though whether that was only on her part or not she couldn't tell at first. Only the sounds of their breathing met her ears, sharp and interesting. Evy felt her pulse being to race as he stilled. Her crying stopped when he slowly tested the waters again, brushing his lips just barely against her skin.

Evy blinked and rested her eyes against the fog while he made no further move. Now she was the one fighting for air. A thousand little things rushed through her mind about what was happening and who this was, but she pushed them away for his need. Her hug on him tightened and she rubbed her cheek against his bowed head. One last tear from each of her eyes fell before she pulled back to look at him.

His tear-stained cheeks struck a chord in her—she had never dreamed of seeing this man so grieved, but those dark eyes were what held her attention most as he stayed close and searched her face like he saw a way out of the pain. Without warning he jerked her back into his strong arms and pressed his lips to hers, asking entrance—to which she agreed. She felt herself shaking hard in his hold as he kissed her frantically, wanting for anything to take him out of this field for even a few minutes. A sweet chill spread through her body, making her forget things—making her see him differently.

Suddenly he was out of her arms and backing away, and she felt empty at the loss. "I'm sorry," he told her, that thickness of emotion returning. "I should not have…I'm sorry."

She got to her feet and approached him, her own grief returning at his wide, wounded eyes. Ardeth stepped away from her again and his back hit a post. His eyes closed and he tightened his fists. She couldn't let him escape and feel alone with this. He needed her and needed to know he hadn't done anything wrong. Evy cornered him against the instrument of humiliation and pain, and rubbed her hands across his sides as her mouth trapped his. 

The Med-Jai momentarily struggled in her grasp, but she would not let him go. He was shivering and confused, but responsive and the last made her sides ache when he groaned. "It's all right, Ardeth," she told him, sending her lips over his again and again, leaving behind that girl who would never have been so forward. "You'll be okay. I promise." She breathed against his mouth and her voice hardened. "He'll pay."

He stopped fighting her kisses and slowly began returning them with fervor, his hands cupping her cheeks. Whether to thank her or in need or both she could not tell, but at the moment she didn't care. She knew only that she wanted to hold him. He needed her and she wanted to be there for him. In that she needed him as well. It had been so long since arms had gone around her in anything but smothering lust.

Ardeth snaked an arm around her waist, drawing her closer as he poured his desperate want to escape this horrible reality into her lips. Quiet tears fell again down his cheeks and not breaking the kiss, she drew her fingers up and rubbed them away. He pressed his forehead against hers in response and fought back his grief, his eyes begging her to tell him this wasn't real.

Evy brushed her lips against his again and reached for the clasp of the cloak she wore. It hit the ground loudly, heavy from being soaked of rain and his hands found her wet sides. She could not tell him this was only a nightmare, but she could give and take this.

His hands smoothed over her wet skin easily, warming the chill in their path across her body. They clenched around her upper arms and his thumbs traced little circles on her skin as he trailed her jaw with his lips. When he kissed beneath her ear a flashback of Imhotep intruded upon her memory and she involuntarily jerked. He looked up, his expression worried he had offended her.

He wasn't Imhotep. Her master was a terrible, evil man—the only man she'd ever slept with, and she didn't want to carry that with her for the rest of her life. He looked on her in possession. Ardeth looked on her with gentleness mixed with endearing uncertainty, as if he cared he might overstep his bounds. This was something she would be proud to carry with her. Evelyn reached for the tie holding his robe closed, undid it and opened the black clothing slowly with her intent clearly displayed in her dark eyes. He stood still while she slid it off of shoulders and let it fall to the sand where his cloak was.

Ardeth wrapped his arms around hers when she embraced into him and the heat of his body made her want to feel that blessed escape from the cold all over her. His tears waned, giving over to something else and she hugged him, kissing and tasting his neck as she pet his muscled back. What words of comfort could she possibly offer that would hold any weight? This wasn't a moment for talking, but one of silence and feeling. 

His hands traveled down the line of her moist sides and stopped on her nearly bare hips to rub back and forth, causing her to swallow hard at the want that produced. Maybe she had never thought of this before, maybe she never would again, but right now it seemed right, seemed perfect and strangely beautiful in its sadness. He grew still again.

Evelyn followed his eyes and looked down as his hands came up to the strings that held the white cloth around her chest. His fingers trembled as he started to untie it gently and she reached up, stopping them in their task, and brought them to her lips as if somehow her kiss would give them strength. When she met his eyes again they were still sad, but there was a quiet desire there that struck her right at the heart. She brought his hands back down to finish what he had begun.

Evy watched as his eyes concentrated, those lashes beautifully close to resting against his tan cheeks, gentle as he pulled the cloth from her body and looked at what was beneath. Her own fluttered for a second when she felt his hand press against her now bare flesh and she couldn't stop the moisture that came to her eyes again at his touch. When he looked up and saw, his own filled again. He was accepting it and she mourned that for him. Evy swallowed and took his shoulder, drawing him down to her level and into her lips. His other arm wrapped around her warmly.

His brows knit as he stole the breath from her, then moved to seek other places to taste. She closed her eyes and was startled at the volume of her whimper when his hot mouth descended on her cold, naked shoulder. Everything seemed heightened, from the chill of the misty rain that started falling, to the sounds of her breath hitting the air.

She leaned her head against his, kissing his wet hair as she looked out across the great field, letting every sensation sear her memory. If she could have taken this one thing from him, this one moment of agony…but she couldn't. Evy pushed him back from her shoulder, then rubbed her hands along his cheeks, drawing him closer to kiss his forehead, then mouth again. She got lost in that kiss, sweet and hot at the same time, so lost that before she even realized how it happened, they were on their knees in the sand. His hands on her skin became a blur of needy, soft caressing and hers were no different.

The length of his side drew her attention to the rim of his pants that was in her path. Ardeth fell easily with her searching kiss as she trapped him with her hands to the ground, crawling over him until he laid back. His hand tangled into her hair as she left his warm mouth and tasted his neck again. His husky scent mingled with the freshness of the rain, a mixture she inhaled deeply and savored, trailing her kiss down his chest to his stomach. Those muscles tightened in response and she smiled for the first time this morning, but it quickly faded within the atmosphere of what was happening and their surroundings. His fingers tightened in her hair when she undid his pants.

Quickly Evy looked up, meeting his eyes with assurance and to confirm his trust was still as it should be. His eyes didn't speak of doubt or regret, but were soft and questioning. Evy pulled his hand out of her hair and brought his wrist to her lips. His fingers gently brushed her cheek, then found her hair again when she left his arm to explore the taste of his side. In a moment she had the opening of his pants drawn aside, exposing his rain-slick hip. He inhaled sharply when she kissed him there and sent a hand down into the rough fabric to rub his warm thigh.

A soft urge from his hand drew her attention and he again invited her back to his mouth. Evy forsook the soft flesh below and came back up, rubbing at those arms whose hands were reaching up her thighs, trying to embrace her down. Instead of giving in to that request of her mouth to his, she began kissing his arms in turn until she reached his elbows. He looked so desirable, lying back in the sand with his wet, black hair falling back and his dark eyes' intent. It gave her the sudden urge to give in. Evy leaned forward and pinned his arms back to the earth as she attacked his mouth, and he arched his head into that kiss with a deep groan that brought back that momentary ache to her sides.

Evelyn let go of one wrist and brushed the backs of her fingers down his arm slowly, shivering at his shiver and tasting his husky sounds as he made them. He freed the other arm from her hold and she could feel him touching her again, smoothing the rain down her back to the white covering her backside. His fingers looped around the chain binding her two skirt pieces together, then slipped beneath the cloth behind her. She stopped kissing and closed her eyes, enjoying that caress.

Ardeth leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers again, moving his hand to the front so he could draw aside the white skirt. She could hear the rustle of him adjusting his pants and a jolt spread through her body when his arm curled around her waist and started pulling her over him and down. Her legs hit the sand on either side of his and she trembled in feeling, her limbs instantly becoming weak.

Their eyes met as she took the first step and moved against him slowly. His lashes fluttered, but the eye contact remained constant for that long moment. He allowed his arm to be dragged back up and he gratefully accepted her lips again. Evy moaned into that hot mouth, closing her eyes against his penetrating gaze. The coarse sand scratched her bare legs as she picked up her pace, then slowed again, teasing him into pretty sensations that she loved hearing about in his soft sounds.

She felt him let go and turn his head to the side as he whispered breathlessly, "The life…your life…I can't breathe," but she had no strength to wonder what that meant beyond the second she heard him say it.

He pulled his arms free and hers hit the ground on either side of his head as he hugged her to him tightly, moving with her, letting himself enjoy her. Evy moaned when he slowly rolled over onto her, pressing her back into the wet sand close to where he had been laying. He brushed her hair from her face and took the lead, tilting her head back so he could access her throat. She grasped at the sand as his arm pulled her hips closer to his.

After her neck had been marked by his fervor, he found her jaw line and traveled it, again resting by her ear, but the gravity of the moment forestalled any bad memories. It had never been like this, never so soft and sweet and consuming.

Evy closed her eyes and narrowed her brow as feelings began stirring, desire crawling up her thighs as Ardeth loved her. Her teeth found her bottom lip and soft whimpers called to him as she began to tense. Ardeth pushed her head to the side and again brushed away stray, soaked strands of her dark hair, then kissed her cheek, soothing, "Shhh," as he fingered her collarbone. He slowed his movements and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, bracing herself through the feelings washing through her. Evy tried to urge him faster, but he wouldn't allow it. His hand grasped her hip, steadying her and making her take it slow as he watched her face.

When she couldn't take anymore he yanked her to his mouth to smother her cries, but soon he lost himself, lowering his head into her shoulder and groaning his own as they trembled together in the rain. Evy hugged her legs to his and sought to touch his long hair, letting herself bask in the warmth of being near him so intimately.

He soon stilled against her, petting her hip as she lay beneath him limply. The Field of the Med-Jai seemed to become unnaturally silent as they remained embraced.

Tears began hitting her shoulder, hot drops fighting for the attention that the cold rain was trying to capture. Reality was returning to him. Escape was over. Evy looked at the gray sky and let her own grief resurface. There was so much she wanted to say, but she had no strength to speak or move. A few shuddering breaths made her close her eyes against his shoulder, wanting to hide herself from these raw emotions that threatened to assail them both.

But even if the dark offered refuge, the quiet did not. His gasping breaths burned her ears with the reason they came so painfully. Evelyn herself began crying more freely, letting everything of the past two years finally hit her, drawn out by this one moment, this one man's heartbreak.

She wanted to say she was sorry, but couldn't.

~~~~~~~

Imhotep rubbed his chin thoughtfully, taking in the last direction she could have gone as the rain began to abate. He had Anubis Jackals hunting to the north, west and east, but his heart suspected she had gone south. He stood alone in the misty grounds, his fresh black robe swirling behind him with the wind. Nefertiri would be in great trouble when he got his hands on her.

The morning was dismal through the endless white fog. In irritation he chanted a few words, touched his lips and exhaled forward. The fog began to clear a path to the south. He walked, seeing before him a great hill. _The_ great hill. His enemy was six years dead but the priest knew that meant little in the long run. If she had gone there in some foolish attempt to wake the Med-Jai he would strap her for even thinking it!

He didn't like going that way, so close to the tomb of Ardeth Bay. Before her death Ancksunamun had warned him that within this Med-Jai's hands lay death. But there could be no help for it.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to become as the wind. His body began to disintegrate and join the sands in a whirlwind of seeking. She had gone this way, he could sense it. It was as if her very essence still touched this land.

The rain had beaten down the sands and created little craters in the surface, but he didn't need footprints to show him she had been here. Imhotep became whole and crouched down, touching the ground below. It sang of her footsteps and he smiled. He was getting close.

~~~~~~~

The fog still held thick, but he could see further than before. Ardeth sat against a post with Evy against him. His arm was draped over her shoulders as she hugged into his body and her hair was just within touching distance. He toyed with the drying strands and stared across the field. His people surrounded him once more, but instead of happy reunions it was a grim display dishonoring those people he had called friends and brothers.

Ardeth's eyes fell upon one single post and again his eyes moistened. Even the women and children had been brought here to this evil place to be shown for Imhotep's delight. He should have died out here with them. He should have been with them to suffer this. What gave him the honor to escape it? "I'm sorry," Evy whispered, her fingers fidgeting with his opened robe. She sounded tired and he felt his body reflect that feeling. "I should never have brought you back."

He breathed out and shook his head, still playing with her hair. "You did what you had to do, Evelyn. You think I did not deserve this, but does that mean you deserved to become Imhotep's slave? I would not let you go on in torment if I could help you." And he meant it. His reason to go on—to live, was her now. He would honor them by avenging their deaths and helping her.

She caressed her hand over his bare stomach and continued her resting. "But living with Imhotep wasn't so terrible. I could have…"

"Did you do this for yourself, then?" he interrupted. She was missing the grand point.

Evy turned her head up and looked at him with sad eyes. "I did it for the others, yes. But a part of me wanted you to wake up and take this nightmare away from me, too. _For_ me. I keep making this worse." She rested against him once more, touching him gently. Her life seemed to stay behind on his skin even after her fingers passed. "I'm so tired. I've seen so much and what you're suffering now is just too much. I caused this because I was tired of Imhotep and his games. Because I longed for a few kind words."

Ardeth hugged her, almost too tired himself to offer her comfort in her guilt. But in comforting her he thought maybe he could find some peace himself. "You didn't cause this. The priest did. And when this is done and if we succeed, it will be you people will thank."

"But will you hate me?" Her question was no more than a breath, but it made him hurt more. His hate was for only one man.

He swallowed and closed his eyes, twirling her dark hair around his finger. He needed to get away from here. "Evy, will you do something for me?" She nodded against him. "Evy, please forgive yourself and be strong. Please do that for me, because if you don't I don't know how I'll make it through this. You don't know what it's like, returning like this. I feel empty and out of place, and seeing this has only made these feelings worsen. I never used to admit weaknesses to anyone, but I have been given much to carry this time. I love you, my friend, and that will remain. Do you love me enough to accept that fact and go on?"

He felt her hands start rubbing up and down his sides. She was warm against him and he felt he could sleep like this for days. "Of course I do," Evy said finally, looking up into his face. "I'll carry this with you. I don't know how or if you'll let me, but I'm here for you."

Ardeth held her eyes with a soft expression, wondering if she would let him kiss her now that the storm had passed. He leaned forward to find out, but both he and Evy froze when they heard it. A voice called through the fog, snapping her ancient name with anger and triumph. "Nefertiri!" the priest shouted, sounding deadly close. "I feel you out here, Nefertiri! You cannot hide!"

Evy looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "My God," she whispered, then sat up from him. "He's found us." Immediately their weariness subsided to panic.

He stood up with her and scouted around for his thrown scimitar. Evelyn grabbed his cloak from the sand and looked towards the voice that came from the north as he shouted again. "He feels me out here," she said, smoothing her hair back. She jumped when Imhotep yelled again, this time closer.

Ardeth grabbed her hand and began pulling her deeper into the great graveyard. It shocked him when she pulled back and stopped. He turned back and saw it in her eyes even before she shoved the cloak into his arms. Again Evy searched the graveyard and found something suitable. Her hand clasped over his and she pulled him past a few posts.

She pushed him down behind one of his people as if the robed figure would obscure him in the fog from Imhotep's eyes. He held to her wrist when she tried to get away again. "I'll not let you go to him," he told her, his eyes firm. Dread settled over him. Dread and fear for her life.

Shaking her head, Evy pushed him back and looked towards the coming doom. "Ardeth, we don't have time to argue. It's your destiny to kill him, not mine. He doesn't seem to know you're out here, or he would be calling for you. Stay hidden. I'll be okay."

He didn't want to let her go. Imhotep would likely kill her for her defiance. Ardeth shook his head, desperate to keep her with him and escape this fate. But her face was resolved. If Imhotep had come upon them this fast, he could pursue them past the Field of the Med-Jai and on. "I will save you," he promised, pulling her down for a kiss.

She drank well of that kiss and yanked herself away. "No you won't. You'll go find safety until destiny calls you." Evy smiled and turned away, disappearing into the fog quickly.

With a shaking breath Ardeth backed up against a post and tuned his keen ears towards what would happen. She wanted him to stay here and survive this and that was the tactical thing to do, but everything inside him called against it. "Imhotep," he heard her say in a frightened voice. They weren't very far at all. Likely only thirty feet or so.

"Nefertiri," Imhotep greeted in a strangely mild tone. For a moment the Med-Jai entertained the priest would be merciful, but the sudden sound of his hand meeting her flesh shook him out of it. Evy cried out and hit the sand. "I offer you riches and a glorified life at my side and this is how you repay me." Another slap. Ardeth instinctively rolled to his knees and stayed crouched like a panther ready to attack.

"I'm sorry," Evy replied in a pleading voice. She whimpered at some unseen punishment and the Med-Jai tightened his fists. He couldn't stay here and listen to this. The wet sand below him felt gritty and called to his attention. He took the Black Book out of her pack and started digging.

There was another slap and then some quiet as Ardeth dug and buried the book. "You have come this way, knowing my enemy sleeps nearby and you assumed I would fear it enough to leave you be? Is that your reasoning, Nefertiri?" He hit her again and there was the sound of movement in the sand. Ardeth draped his cloak over his brother that kept him hidden, waiting for the right moment. "I will teach you what submission is, Princess."

The sounds of Evy and Imhotep struggling caught Ardeth's ears sharply. "Please, not here," she whimpered and that was enough.

In a second Ardeth took off towards the sounds, at the moment all else failing his attention. The world might well hate him for this choice, but he absolutely would not leave her to that. As he ran he drew up his scimitar and by the time Evy and the priest were in sight he was close enough to pounce. He fell with Imhotep and began his attack. "No!" Evy cried out from nearby. The panic in her voice shook Ardeth, but right now another emotion was surfacing.

This was the man that had done this to his people. This man who enslaved innocents and destroyed life. Imhotep looked down on him with alarm in his eyes, but he was no less arrogant than Ardeth remembered from before. "So, you have awoken my enemy!" he spat, his eyes ever watching the Med-Jai's movements. His strength was superior in his immortality. "I should kill you both right here, but that would be an unfitting reward. Nefertiri, you have never known pain before what I will do to you now!"

With a yell of rage Ardeth threw his hands into the mummy's shoulders, knocking Imhotep off of him and to the sand on his left. The Med-Jai rolled to his feet and pointed into the fog, commanding, "Run!" to his companion.

"No! I won't leave you!" Evy retorted and he gave her warning glare. She ignored it and he conceded that even if she did run Imhotep would likely catch her and do worse. 

The priest was advancing, his midnight eyes twinkling and his lips formed into a sneer. "You have no hope against me, Med-Jai." He flung his hands out and a wind from nowhere knocked both Ardeth and Evy down. He heard the bones of his people rattling and his anger deepened. "What powers have you, awakened one? Were you given any or does mortality still hold you down like a slave beneath her master?"

Imhotep made a fist and threw himself down to attack Ardeth, but he rolled out of the way and immediately jumped into the priest. He sent his fist back into the priest's jaw and Imhotep groaned. Ardeth brought blood back with his hand and froze, looking at the red liquid in amazement. Feeling of his lip, Imhotep also stared in shock and soon his widened eyes turned to the Med-Jai on him. He was vulnerable to Ardeth's attack. That only served to infuriate him.

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of Ardeth and everything blackened for a second. When he opened his eyes his back was against a post. The priest had used his powers to throw him a good ten feet away. Ardeth groaned and stumbled from the post and Evy ran to him. Imhotep began for them and he grabbed her hand, yanking her into the mist to run. Even if Imhotep were vulnerable, he still had powers Ardeth did not. The only option left was to run and hide.

They did run, not even fully realizing in which direction they were headed. They only knew they had to get away at all costs. Ardeth pulled her to the side, hoping to throw Imhotep off their trail by zigzagging the field. "We're going to die," Evy moaned in fear.

Nodding his head, Ardeth risked a glance backwards and muttered, "Could be."

She grunted when he forced her along. Something began to change, though at first Ardeth could not pinpoint exactly what it was. The wind seemed to pick up slightly and if he didn't know any better he could swear it was moving in several different directions at once. His hair moved against his shoulders.

Soon it started to dawn on him that more and more of the posts ahead were becoming visible. Imhotep's triumphant laughter seemed to surround them and echo through the great field. Ardeth grit his teeth at the reality of Imhotep daring to stand on his people's burial grounds. If there were any way under God Ardeth could make this monster pay, he would.

The fog cleared to a certain boundary and stopped, sight granted them inside the Field of the Med-Jai. He and Evy skidded to a halt and Ardeth turned back. Imhotep stalked towards them with his black robes flowing and that familiar smile of victory on his face. "Come on," Evy breathed, taking a firm hold of his wrist and pulling.

Ardeth turned away from his destined enemy and ran with Evelyn. They did not turn back again.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad and Nashean belong to me. **Author**: Angela – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com

**A/N**: Hmm. No notes this time other than I hope you all enjoyed. I'm thinking that up there falls under a PG13 rating since there's no descriptives of heppy body parts. Hmmm. Actually yes…notes on Eternal Sorrow. Just to make it clear, the sun does shine behind the veil Imhotep has dropped, so there is a night and day that occurs…it's just kinda like an eternal fog…like a rainy day.

**To Reviewers**:

**Hadassaknamu** – Sorry to hear about your mouse. ;-) Computers are goofy. Anyway, thanks for the review…I'm glad you get it now. :-D

**Montana** – Hey, I'm just happy to get any reviews, so no apologies necessary! I hope Rick and Ardeth save the day too. ;-) Thanks!

**Lula** – Yeah…very true. Our hottie is a very honorable man who wouldn't think anything of taking on such a heavy burden. Too bad most men weren't really like this! :-O Hehehe! Anyway, no apologies necessary when it comes to things like reviews. I'm happy to get them when people can give them. :-) I just like knowing people enjoy my writing. Thanks muchly. PS – here's that extended love scene I didn't have the guts to write for Passion. Lol.

**Marcher** – Hmmm. I followed the white rabbit and ended up in my granny's back yard across the street. No Matrix and certainly no Ardeth. :-O Anyway, thanks…I'm glad you enjoyed this one and Fury. This one is certainly gonna be as long as Fury, if not more! :-D Hope you all are in it for the long haul! Hehehe Anyhow, as I said to Lula – this is the extended love scene I was talking about...ugh. Lucky Evy…why I write these things I'll never know. *not jealous of Evy* ;-)

**Elven Sapphire** – Nice screen name! Makes me think of Lord of the Rings! :-D And thanks for the reviews!

**Deana** – Yeah, you know me and my poor versions of Ardeth. *evil chuckle* But yeah…Evy comforted him as you can see. *Screams like SpongeBob* DOH! Lucky her! :-O Thanks!

**Mommints** – Hehehe! Lack of sleep, eh? I've been under that influence before! Get even, eh?? ;-) If that involves MORE of your story, doooo it! Hehehe! Anyway, thanks for reviewing. :-)

**Eve** – Yeah, very true. Good work does take time. :-) Thank you for saying I did a good job. Makes me feel heppy that my sitting here in the cold computer room is redeemed…lol. :-)

**Marxbros** – Yeas, inspiration is a nice side effect of ff.net, is it not? :-) I'm glad you're enjoying and thank for your compliments! I actually got my weather/atmosphere ideas from a combination of different places, mostly PC games – directly the music from one called Zork Nemesis whose music would be perfect with some of our stories with the atmospheric tones it has. Anyway, also thanks for the compliments on Rick…he's like the hardest for me to capture I think. He and Evy…hehe! But yeah, I've been to the minute = bullets place myself a few times…prolly those last few minutes of school. Hehehe! Thanks!****


	5. Welcome Home

**Speak Softly**  
Welcome Home

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evy opened her eyes and groaned. She had lost consciousness not long after Imhotep gave pursuit of she and Ardeth, and the first time she had awakened from that it had been to a swift, rough whipping right here in the throne room where the pharaoh's council could watch. Her breathing came hard and her body ached from Imhotep's strap. He sat above her on his throne, aware that she had come to. The pharaoh leaned his hands onto his knees and looked down on her as she lay on the floor, weak and cut. "How do you feel?"

Her eyes moistened and she found she had no words to say. The king-priest saw her distress and was off his high seat and kneeling by her side in an instant. He was possessively gentle and it made her head spin as he drew her into his hot arms. Imhotep intruded his hands through her dark hair and whispered, "My Nefertiri, why did you run from me? Why do you make me hurt you?"

At that she laughed bitterly and endured his softness. "I hate you," was her reply, as she remembered with a shudder Ardeth's pain at seeing his people dead.

He traced her neck and smiled, brushing his lips across cheeks reddened from hard slaps. "Yes. You do. It does not have to be that way."

Evy furrowed her brow and wrenched herself free of his caresses with a scowl. "Imhotep," she said incredulously, "get real. What have you done with Ardeth?"

The priest ignored her question and crossed his arms, still sitting on the floor. Instead he said, "You brought my enemy back from the grave. I have not yet decided how I shall punish further you for that mistake."

"What did you do to him?" she repeated, too determined to get an answer to be afraid of pressing the issue. She had to know where Ardeth was. If he were hurting somewhere…

Drawing in a long breath, Imhotep gave in to her want as he sometimes would when he questioned how far he had taken his actions. He backed against his throne and gazed through unreadable eyes. "I did what I had to. I killed him."

Evy swallowed and shook her head, unease spreading through her body. "You're lying," she accused him, but he gave no indication that he was. Too many emotions swept through her for her to contain herself as a few seconds passed away. She threw herself at the priest, hitting him everywhere her small hands could find and cried, "Tell me that you're lying!" She couldn't be back here. Not again.

He let her vent her anger for only so long before his hands closed around her wrists roughly and held her still. Evy looked into his angry face and forced herself to calm down. Getting killed wouldn't help right now. She needed all the facts. Imhotep threw her aside and snapped, "Of course I killed him, Nefertiri! You think I am a fool that would allow his enemy to walk and breathe, knowing he may well kill me? You saw what your Med-Jai was able to do." It troubled him greatly, she could tell.

She rubbed her stomach and sat for a moment, trying desperately not to believe his logic. Something wasn't right about this. It didn't ring true of the priest, yet how could she argue with what he just said? Ardeth gone? Memories of his first death came flooding back, an image of a body resting and his eyes forever closed. The purple bruise that had still shown on the side of his forehead as a mark of fatality. Imhotep watched her curiously, then said in low tones, "You cared for him?"

"Yes," she whispered, trying to hold her tears back in front of this monster. It was growing harder by the second.

The priest inhaled sharply and glared. Evy kept her gaze down, her hand shivering in need to cover the mark of Ardeth's kiss she knew would be on her throat, visible for Imhotep to see. What rights did he have for jealousy? Finally he asked, "Did you lay with him?"

That abrupt question caught her off guard and she looked up quickly, afraid to answer. She clasped her shaking hands together and attempted to formulate a lie, but he had already seen the answer in her eyes and was steadily growing angrier. "Yes!" she hissed, looking straight into his shadowy face. "Yes, I bloody well did! Is that so terrible? To want the kind touch of a friend instead of the pawings of a madman?"

Imhotep glared a second more, and then looked away. "No, it is not." His voice was distant.

She saw his breathing deepen and an old hurt resurfaced across his face. Once upon a time he had been in Ardeth's shoes and Ancksunamun in hers. That very fact could possibly save her from his anger. Evy shakily touched his arm and said, "I'm sorry."

He ripped his arm away as if bitten and stood up. Waving his hand he told her, "Go where you will, Nefertiri. Leave me now." She watched him disappear into an adjoining chamber.

Evy stood up on weak legs and looked around, not sure what to do with herself. The image of Ardeth's face rushed upon her like an enemy and her eyes watered. He couldn't be dead. She refused to believe it. Yet that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach would not go away. She wrapped her arms around herself and left the throne room, jackals watching her with flinty eyes. The dimmed hallways of night gave off a false impression of loneliness and the cold, dark gray walls trimmed by gold doors and cream furniture echoed a certain bittersweet beauty that bled of Imhotep's reign. It was dark here, shadowy with sparse lighting; chain chandeliers bearing alabaster candles strung above every fifteen feet.

She decided to return to her rooms and hopefully find rest. Right now consciousness was too much to bear. It felt strange being back, wandering these halls once more. From the feel of it one would think she had been gone for a long time. It wasn't that, though. She had believed Ardeth would save her—the world. Sure, she had her share of doubts, but the very idea that he wouldn't save her came as a surprise.

Wiping a tear, she sniffled and turned right down a hallway. Footsteps trailed behind her and she whipped around with a small, irrational hope inside that it would be Ardeth coming to rescue her. She chided herself upon seeing her brother. "Evy," he breathed, looking her over with sad eyes that noticed every visible bruise. "Poor baby sister. I heard last night. Where did you go?"

Unable to contain herself at hearing Jonathan's comforting voice, Evy let her cries come out. He held her fast, waiting patiently for her to talk. "I…I woke Ardeth up, Jonathan. I thought he could help us."

He sighed against her and brushed her hair with his fingers. "You woke Ardeth? Where is he?"

"Imhotep said he killed him," she replied in fearful tones, holding her brother hard. "I took him to the Field of the Med-Jai and, and he saw. And if Imhotep killed him…oh Jonathan, it was all in vain."

Jonathan exhaled and drew her along. "Maybe Imhotep was lying. It isn't as if the old devil's ever honest."

Evy shook her head, wiping her cheeks again. One never could never distinguish between madness and sanity when it came to Imhotep, much less what truth was. "I suppose he could have been, but why? He's afraid of Ardeth and keeping him alive would be stupid. Imhotep admitted as much to me."

They stopped at her grand rooms; rooms only she and Imhotep had keys to. She looked down at her two-piece skirt and saw hers still dangled from the chain across her hip. Jonathan followed when she unlocked the door and set her keys on a table inside. The familiar setting smothered her. "How did you get out?" he asked, flopping down on a pillow filled dais.

She joined him and hugged a pillow to her chest, still picturing Ardeth in her mind. Her stomach hurt and tingled when she thought of their moments in the sand. The last thing she really felt like doing right now was reliving the gory details of her story, but Jonathan looked on expectantly. "The night I left I broke a small window in one of the guest chambers on the main floor. I ran through the dark towards the Med-Jai burial grounds and a jackal followed me." The terror she had felt that night still rang through her. She showed him her cut up arms. "I didn't escape without wounds to show for it, but I managed to kill the thing and continue. It took me all night, but I got there with the Book of the Dead and called Ardeth back."

"The Book of the Dead?" Jonathan breathed in wonderment. He leaned back on his hands and looked at his sister. "How'd you manage to get your hands on that, old mum?"

Evy shrugged, not all that sure herself. "Someone sent it." She rolled onto her stomach and laid her head against a large pillow. "Anyway, I woke Ardeth and fell unconscious. When I woke up we were inside the crypts. We…we went to the Field of the Med-Jai." Outside the wind picked up and Evy glanced to the window. It was getting dark from another storm cloud. Perfect to suit her mood.

Jonathan also looked up and took notice of the sky. "Poor old boy. Must have been hard, seeing his own like that. How'd he handle it?"

She swallowed as his cries sounded sharply in her mind, followed by soft kisses beneath her ear. A chill passed through her and his dark eyes wouldn't leave her alone. "Bad," she answered and closed her eyes, needing sleep. "I'm so tired, Jonathan."

The cushioned dais shifted when his weight was taken away from it. He opened a cupboard across the room and took a blanket out. She welcomed it gratefully when he draped it over her. "Go to sleep, Evy. Close your eyes and forget everything. I'm taking your key so I can check on you later."

"Okay," she murmured, taking small comfort in the warmth around her. She felt him rub her arm and stand back up. "Jonathan?" He waited when she looked up. "Please try to find out what happened to Ardeth."

Jonathan nodded once and turned away, taking her keys and leaving her alone. Evy snuggled into her blankets and stared at the colorless wall. His fingers still traveled across her shoulder gently. Ardeth was not dead. She would know it if he were. Yet the doubt within would not stop whispering in her ear. Evy closed her eyes tightly and tried not to let tears fall again. The nightmare was far from over.

~~~~~~~

The place he was in was large, he could tell. Not having one's sight caused the other senses to become sharper, though his senses were already quite attuned from training. Large rooms like these gave off a different sound than smaller, more confined rooms. There was shuffling in the distance, indicating he wasn't altogether alone. It was chilly, meaning he was underground and the air smelled old. He was far from the surface.

The light of life was gone from this place. Outside it attacked his senses and pawed at him gently with beautiful stirrings in his spirit. Evy's life had filled him, driven him into deepest despair for need of its beauty. But this place…this place was cold and dark and lifeless. This place was filled with death and emptiness.

Ardeth didn't move from where he was. He could see no need for it in his uninformed state and besides that he was sore. Imhotep must have attacked them from behind before either could even comprehend it was coming. He exhaled.

Under other circumstances he might have thought laying here in the cold dark with his heart torn to pieces would seem like death. But he knew it was not. He knew death. This was worse. But he couldn't afford to dwell on his people. There was nothing he could do to change what had been done. He could save Evy though, with a little effort.

First thing was first. He needed to know if he were restrained. A small movement confirmed he was not and he wasn't sure how to take that. Obviously Imhotep was confident that Ardeth didn't need to be bound, but was that confidence wrong or simply because the priest had enough advantage to let Ardeth free?

The rustling in the blackness grew louder as if something was struggling. Perhaps it wasn't confidence that kept him free, but necessity. Imhotep seemed to want him alive for the time being, but if there were something dangerous down here he would have to defend himself or at least run. There was a scream from far away and the echoing sound chilled him.

Ardeth was not sure what he should do. To get down and wander might well see him dead, but he _had_ to know what fate had befallen Evy. This was maddening and perfectly Imhotep. For all he knew he was blind! It was frustrating.

But sitting here was not going to accomplish anything. Ardeth swung his legs over the side of his stone bed and let his feet drop. The sound reminded him of waking up, of the horrible feeling of loss. He shook his head.

Holding his hands out in front of him, Ardeth at first felt nothing but the floor beneath him and the chill of the air. He walked until he was confident that if he turned back he could not find the slab he had been laying on. The seconds passed into minutes and those into ten until at last he found a wall. He patted it in relief and began to follow. That shuffling sound came closer, making him slightly nervous.

Somewhere in these halls he ran—quite literally—into a small pool of water. The sudden decline of ground made him falter in the darkness, and before he knew it he was on his hands and knees in a puddle. Something scurried towards him, hitting the water with light feet. Ardeth raced up and brushed his splashed hair back, holding himself in the defensive.

A small squeak later what he decided must be a rat bounded past him, hitting his leg on the way and squealing in irritation. He let out a tense breath, but immediately held it again when another sound came from nearby. That shuffling again, too big to be a rodent. Ardeth felt for the wall again and headed back the other way. The shuffling followed him.

_Wonderful_, he thought ironically as slow footfalls kept up behind him. After fighting many foes in his years the last thing he needed was to be killed in a dungeon by some limping robber. But suddenly the shuffling stopped and the very air seemed to react to what Ardeth heard. A voice, strong and regal, shouted in the depths, rounding corners now to meet his ears. "Imhotep," he breathed in contempt, but knew that to see the priest may mean getting a glimpse of his surroundings—not to mention possibly getting rid of his follower. He headed towards the voice.

Not too long after the first call Ardeth—and his follower—found a hallway with orange light pouring down it. He could see the priest in the distance with a torch, heading straight for him. The Med-Jai took this opportunity to see if the small light would allow him a vision of his tag-along, but it was still too dark.

To remain still might give his little friend back there a chance to attack, so he headed for Imhotep. The priest drew himself up as he neared, his eyes shadowy. They met in the middle of a clearing in the halls and Ardeth could see through the scant light what he already knew. He was in a dungeon. Before Imhotep could speak he glanced around for his follower, annoyed that the thing stayed hidden. "Looking for something, Med-Jai?" the priest asked.

Ardeth narrowed his brow at Imhotep, noting there were no guards with him. "What sort of place is this and what have you done with Evy?"

"This," Imhotep began with a sweep of his arm, "is your home." He bent and peered behind Ardeth, then smiled. "You have made a friend already."

Whipping around to see whatever it was the priest was smirking at, Ardeth gasped and took a step back. The shadow was little more than a skeleton with paper-thin flesh hanging from its bones. It had once been a young man, he could tell. It stared at him through hollow eyes and Ardeth felt uneasy. "What manner of dungeon is this, that holds the living dead?"

The king-priest snapped at the creature that watched and it shuffled back into the darkness. He looked at Ardeth in fascination. "I thought this might be fun for my more hated enemies. It is where you will live from now until you die."

Ardeth frowned at the idea and more so the joy this little place seemed to give Imhotep. "Why do you hold me here, knowing that it is my destiny to kill you?" he asked.

"You are a man of many questions, Med-Jai, but I see no reason to withhold knowledge. I thought about killing you." From his eyes Ardeth could see it was true. He had come close to losing his life in sleep. The priest kept his eyes on him and tilted his head. "But you fascinate me. You are able to cause me harm, though I am immortal. I wonder why. If you survive down here perhaps we can test our skills against one another, but right now I have other matters to attend to."

Ardeth grunted at that, wrapping his arms around himself in the cold. "Where is Evy?" he asked again, aware he had not been answered the first time.

Imhotep's face darkened and it made him wonder what had happened. The priest's amusement turned into a steady glare. "You have touched my Nefertiri," he hissed in statement. Ardeth remained silent, knowing nothing he could say would appease the mummy. He continued. "You believe she loves you?"

"Perhaps," Ardeth replied simply as he shivered.

The priest nodded. "We shall see."

Bay cocked his head and allowed a sarcastic smile to cross his lips. "Will we?" He looked around the darkness and wondered if death would find him if he attacked the priest. He turned back. "Is this the reason you tear yourself away from the comfort above? You must feel threatened if you need to come make sure my spirits are low. Thank you for showing me your fear and raising them."

Imhotep wasn't moved by Ardeth's goading. "It is not fear that moves me, but justice. You touched that which is mine and have threatened my possession of it. That deed cannot go unpunished." He drew a dagger from his belt.

At that Ardeth backed away and the priest took a step in advance with grim intent in his eyes. Ardeth's mind fought between staying and fighting or running into the darkness in the hope that Imhotep would tire of the game and leave him. If he could get that dagger away…

Ardeth decided to stay and face Imhotep, and the priest smiled. They wouldn't wait to test their skills against one another after all. The time was now. Imhotep tossed the torch down and held the dagger forward. He slashed at Ardeth, but he backed off in time, then grabbed for the mummy's arm.

Imhotep laughed and wrenched free, in turn dragging the knife over Ardeth's arm in the process. The Med-Jai groaned at the sting and kicked the priest down. Hitting the ground, Imhotep flipped to his knees and raced up with a grin. He tossed himself forward and knocked Ardeth to the dirt beneath them. The two men struggled on the floor until Imhotep pulled his fist free and backhanded Ardeth as hard as he could.

Groaning, Ardeth clawed at the robed priest's attacking hands, desperate to keep the knife away. The priest looked down in determination and thrust the dagger towards Ardeth, but was deflected. He was momentarily knocked off balance and Ardeth took the advantage to land a punch into Imhotep's jaw, causing him to gasp. It was enough for the Med-Jai to wrench himself free from his enemy and get up.

Imhotep kicked out before Ardeth could move to a safe distance, and he stumbled back into the wall. The priest was on him in seconds, pinning him back with his powers. He nodded in appreciation of the Med-Jai's skill, and then slashed his side. Ardeth groaned, but maintained defiant eye contact. "You will die," Imhotep told him confidently as he backhanded him again. "And you will be put with your people. You know not with whom you deal. I cannot be stopped." He hit him again and wiggled his hand as pain started to affect him. The knife found its way to Ardeth's throat and dark eyes glared him down. "I will have possession of Nefertiri forever and you, my Med-Jai enemy, you will have but a memory for the remainder of your short life."

The priest pulled the knife away and let Ardeth free, giving him time to use the arrogant confidence of Imhotep to seize the dagger and stab him. Imhotep howled in pain and fury when his own weapon met his shoulder. The mummy yanked it out and pulled Ardeth from the wall, then used his power to toss him across the room.

Ardeth fell to the floor a ways off from Imhotep and listened as the priest commanded those who inhabited this horrible dungeon not to let their hunger go unanswered. The undead hungered for all that lived to perish that they may finally find peace. They would not give him leave to sleep in this dark place. "Fight for your pitiful life," Imhotep spat, taking the dagger and torch up. "The dead will not let you have a moment's rest."

As the king-priest left Ardeth could hear the shuffling begin again. He couldn't stay here and recover. Painfully, he pulled himself to his feet and felt for a wall, then traversed until he could hear no more footsteps. Sinking to his knees and fighting for breath, he took what little rest would be given as the undead moved slowly. At least now he knew Evy lived and the priest meant her to stay that way. It gave him something to fight for.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad and Nashean belong to me. **Author**: Angela – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com

**A/N**: Hmmm. I do hope my Ardeth/Evy stuff hasn't drive off anyone. ;-) :-D I know some have stuck it out, eh? Anyway, no real notes this time around.

**To Reviewers**:

**Mommints** – Aaaw, thanks! Yeah…poor Ardeth. *sniff* And the things we all do to that boy. ;-) Anyway, I'm glad you like my bad!Immy. :-D

**Lula** – Thankie! Yeah, Immy needs a good butt whoopin' for throwing Ardeth around! :-O Unfortunately…not yet, though. ;-) Little more Ardeth angst, huh?

**Insane Dragoness** and **Deana** – Thanks! I'm glad you liked…yeah, twas sad, huh? Our poor guy. :-D

**Marxbros** – Thanks for sticking it out, then, if Ardeth/Evy's hard for you to swallow. ;-) It's a compliment that you can like it from me! :-) Thanks!

**Marcher** – I'm thinking you rather like Ardeth's thighs. ;-) Meeeeee too, my friend. Meeee too. *drool* Thank you, I'm glad you liked!****


	6. Hope's Life

**Speak Softly**  
Hope's Life

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Awakening slowly for unknown reasons, the first thing Evy became aware of was her hair being pet. Opening her eyes, she turned and froze upon seeing Imhotep in the rich, dim candlelight. She had learned the first thing to do in this situation was to look at his eyes. See what sort of mood he was in. He looked oddly soft, a mood he didn't wear often, but one she was grateful for. "Are you angry with me?" she asked out of sheer need to get whatever would happen started so it would stop.

He shook his head and continued touching her hair. "No, Nefertiri. My anger has subsided—fortunately for you." He paused in reflection. The pharaoh laid back against the sea of maroon and gold pillows and inhaled deeply. "We were not always enemies, you and I."

This was definitely one of his stranger moods and she realized it was because of what she had said earlier. Between the lines she had made a comparison between he and Seti and it must have gotten him to stop and think about his actions. "Tell me about it?" she tested, watching him gaze at the canopy above them. "Tell me about who you were before…the change."

Imhotep's eyes flashed when she said that, but he didn't become hostile. Instead he sat up on his elbow and gazed down at her. Those ringed fingers found her hair again. "There was a time when you looked to me for guidance, Princess. When you trusted me as your teacher of our religion and worldly knowledge. There were many things I would have taught you still, had life stayed the same." He moved his hand to her face. "You have grown well."

At that Evy felt distinctly uncomfortable, being referred to as a princess she knew and yet didn't. Imhotep caught onto that and continued talking softly. "You think because you lack the memories of an age past that you are not she, but I knew her and I know you. You bear the same strengths, the same weaknesses. It's makes me…" He stopped and let his eyes travel over her.

Evy curled against her warm blanket in defeat. "Did you care for her at all?" she asked him, keeping Nefertiri separate from herself. "I remember a few things because of your spell. She feared you as she grew older. She saw the way you would look at her sometimes." A flash of that ancient suspicion—now confirmed, made Evelyn shiver.

Knitting his brows, Imhotep frowned. He obviously hadn't known what an effect he'd had on the young princess as her growing brought her to womanhood. "I cared for her. I would never have harmed her, though my thoughts were upon her beauty sometimes. But I was younger then, and foolish."

Sometimes those memories seemed real and Evy would find herself seeing through Nefertiri's eyes. Though he had never touched her in an untoward fashion, Evy could recall little images very vividly. He hadn't always guarded what his dark eyes sought after during their lessons, traveling her over as he taught her to read the ancient texts of their gods, his hands lingering on her when he prayed and blessed her. It had frightened Nefertiri when she grew old enough to understand what he was restraining, but he had never taken the next step, never tried to seduce his young pupil. No, those things had never happened, but her fears of it didn't prove groundless. "And now? Now you feel you may hurt her?"

His eyes hardened at that, but his voice remained low and steady. "She cursed me in her brother's absence. She could have let me die for the justice of what I did, but she cursed me forever. And she took away my heart's desire, as did you. I caused a debt to her by murdering her father, for which I have paid 3,000 years and more yet to come. Seti may know rest or reincarnate where he will, but my soul will _never_ be unbound to this earth. For that I demand repayment. You have prevented my love for Ancksunamun, therefore you will replace it." She had crossed the line and resurfaced his ancient anger. Now he would act on it.

But instead of taking her into his arms, Imhotep sat up and touched her hair. Those eyes flit back and forth over her face, searing the details and committing them to a mental catalogue of all his other precious possessions. His voice became sensual and tempting. "It need not be a terrible price, Nefertiri. You need not be a whore to me, but a queen."

Evy's eyes widened at that and her heart balked. His queen? Why on earth would he care to elevate her to that title? And more to the point, why on earth would he think she would want to marry him? "No," she heard herself say before her mind fully thought through what might happen if she refused. The coolness of the room seemed to intensify under that gaze.

Imhotep's gaze was not angry, but she could see firmness there, amidst the desire. "You hesitate. Because of your lover? My price will be met. Your Med-Jai lover is dead and I offer you another chance at happiness. You will be exalted among women." He lifted her chin and moved closer.

"Happiness?" she hissed, sitting up and throwing her blanket off. "_Happiness_? Imhotep, you don't love me and though I know it may well get me killed, I'll be honest with you. I do _not_ love you either! Your offer can't erase two years of…" She couldn't go on. _Your Med-Jai lover is dead._ Her heart screamed that phrase again. Her friend…her lover? And now he offered this to her after killing Ardeth? No, Ardeth couldn't be dead. The fury started building in her. "If you wanted me to change dresses all you had to do was throw one at me and command it! It's not like I could have refused!"

The king-priest remained calm despite her outburst. He watched her fume for a few minutes, then made a decision. Without warning he pressed her to the dais and was over her, pinning her back and forcing her lips to open to his. "Is this what you want, Princess?" he demanded of her, smoothing a hot hand down her thigh. "Is this how you want me to treat you?" She shook her head and shivered as his fingers moved to the clasp on her skirt.

The door opened suddenly and someone entered, then stopped and dropped keys. Imhotep turned around with a glare and she heard her brother stammer, "S-sorry. I'm sorry, Pharaoh. I…I only came t-to check on my sister. I'll…I'll leave now." There was a shuffling of feet and then the door closed, locking her in once again with the priest.

Imhotep turned his scowl back onto her, but it faded quickly. His eyes traveled her over as he breathed, "I only wish to make this easier between us. Ancksunamun was not worthy of this treatment by your father and you are not of me, but my price _will_ be met one way or another. We do not love each other as we did others who are gone, but that does not mean we must be enemies." He got off her and stalked towards the door. "Walk by my side as you should and leave this life behind you. There is much you can teach me and I would learn if you would allow it. Think of what I will give you, for it will be more than a change of dress."

Evy sat up, her heart pounding and her face hot with fear. "Imhotep," she called and he stopped, but did not turned to face her. "Jonathan didn't know. I let him take the key. You won't hurt him, will you?"

There was a momentary pause before he replied, "A queen need not fear such from me. A slave may only pray for my mercy." And then he left her with a slam of the door.

Laying back down against the dais, Evy stared at the canopy as her mind reeled. Why was he doing this to her? She found another round of tears forming in her eyes. She could expect these things from him, but it didn't make it any easier. He was a man of two minds; a cold, hard king that wanted everyone to pay for his pain and yet there was another side that surfaced from time to time. It was that other side that kept her mind in confusion and tore at her. Sometimes he could conceive of exactly what he had become, she could tell, and that startling realization would dawn in his expression that he was everything he had hated about Seti.

But Imhotep was a prideful man, a man who felt passionately and needed to, and who was torn between taking what he wanted from a world that gave him hell and being the young priest Ancksunamun had fallen in love with. He seemed unable to control his darkness despite that small desire inside. Evy felt sick.

Nefertiri could remember her friendship to him and her heart went out to him in his path of destruction. But even the ancient princess Evy had been had known there was a root of darkness in him. Back then he had been strong enough to fight it, but after Ancksunamun that willpower failed. She didn't know if he were reachable or not anymore and a part of her didn't care. She just wanted him dead.

"Ardeth," she breathed, reminding herself of her own loss. Ardeth and his people and the world. But if he were dead then truly all hope was gone with him.

~~~~~~~

Rick stared ahead at the wall while Mayadeh, a perfectly beautiful woman, rubbed his shoulders, but no matter how much he wanted it to relax him, it never seemed to work on his tense muscles. At least everything was quiet here. "Do you think I'm leading you guys off course?" he asked softly, glancing around at the sparse, colorless room. The news he had just gotten was bad. Good, but bad.

Kneading his tough muscles, the young girl sighed and whispered into his ear, "Do not listen to my brother. He is a fool. He thinks all should be like him." She exhaled and worked at a tough knot. "What news have you heard? Ahamad would not let me read the telegram."

Rubbing his temples as if it could ease his headache, Rick groaned and stretched in his chair. He wasn't quite sure whether to feel exhausted or excited. His friend was awake, but a big task lay between them. One he wasn't sure he could take care of. Where were his cigarettes? He gave up on them after a fruitless sweep of the room. "Evy escaped from the palace a few nights ago."

Mayadeh gasped in surprise. Escape from there was next to impossible, which he concluded must be why she had succeeded. It wasn't expected. "She must be very brave."

"The bravest," Rick breathed in response. He took her hands away from his shoulders and looked into the mirror across from them into her dark eyes, uncertain about whether or not he would carry these things alone. He could have begged her for help, but would never ask these things of them. "Let's just say she found a friend of ours and was going to bring him out here, but they were captured by Imhotep shortly after. Those I sent after Jonathan sent word telling me that Evy got herself a little beating from King Imhotep and they think my friend was taken into a dungeon below in secret." He had to get him out. There was no other option but that.

The floor nearby creaked and they both looked over to see Ahamad enter. He leaned against the doorframe and watched in mild interest. "And let me guess. You wish us to waste more of our people on getting them out?"

Mayadeh glared at her brother and crossed her tanned arms. "You speak shamefully, brother," she told him point blank. She and her brother rarely agreed on anything, especially where Rick was concerned. "You should hear him out before making judgments."

Ahamad kicked a worn chair away from a nearby table and sat down with a stern expression. "There's a war out there, woman. Do not let your friendship with this outsider cloud your eyes." At her continued glare he rubbed at his shoulder and inhaled in concession. "O'Connell, you know I don't wish to fight with you or cause you hate towards me, but there comes a time when one has to look at the bigger picture as I have said many times. I was told of that telegram. One of our men died trying to rescue Jonathan Carnahan and upon that the attempt failed. Will you ask us to sacrifice again?"

He wouldn't. He knew he couldn't. Ardeth was somewhere below the palace of Imhotep, the one man Imhotep feared for whatever inane reason, and Rick couldn't ask these people to help. He had already asked too much. So his reply to that was simple. "Nope. I'm going alone."

"What?" The exclamation came from both brother and sister. Ahamad narrowed his brow at the American before him. "Alone? You are going to fight Imhotep alone? You truly are mad, O'Connell."

Rick rubbed his rough, stubbled chin. "Maybe. Doesn't change what I gotta do." They were right. It was completely crazy, but if it would get him close to Ardeth, he had to do it.

Mayadeh placed her hands on her hips and looked into the mirror at him with hurt eyes. This would effect her most of all, he knew. There were unspoken feelings there that he could never bring himself to encourage, no matter how much he thought he needed that or wanted to. "And what is it that you have to do? What is worth your death when you can do much good?"

"Evy," he admitted, looking back at her with unconcealed worry in his eyes. "Jonathan. Ardeth." He had never truly accepted them as being lost from his world and now he knew why.

"Ardeth?" Ahamad questioned sharply. That name would cause any man who knew Imhotep well enough to freeze. He blinked in confusion, but there was an unmistakable flicker of hope that Rick had never seen before in those eyes. "Ardeth Bay? The one Imhotep guards at the Med-Jai burial site? You seek a dead man?"

Rick smiled mirthlessly and nodded. "Yep. Evy seems to have gotten her hands on the Book of the Dead…actually, I sent it to her, and she woke him from the grave. He's now a captive in Imhotep's dungeon. He's the other one in the telegram."

"Allah," the other man breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You truly did this, saw the enemy of Imhotep awakened? Are you insane and telling me lies?"

O'Connell shook his head, watching Mayadeh sit down and rub her arms. This was big news. Everyone who studied the priest enough to find his weaknesses knew he feared a once mythological Med-Jai named Ardeth Bay. People who wanted to tear a ruthless dictator down made it their business to know such things. He could see resolve forming in the other man's intent. "No lies. But, you know, since he's my friend I'll take care of it myself. I wouldn't want to destroy the whole picture over one small part." Rick smiled.

Mayadeh's brother frowned at that and waved him off. "Don't be smart, O'Connell. It doesn't look good on you." He rubbed at his shoulder and glanced from his sister to Rick again. "We should take an army to rescue Ardeth Bay. This affects us all."

"No," Rick replied easily. That was one thing they did _not_ need to do. "Take an army there and the first thing Imhotep'll do is kill Ardeth. I've got a better idea. I'm gonna turn myself in." He waited for their reactions and wasn't disappointed.

"You will not!" Mayadeh commanded firmly with frightened and almost angry eyes. "That is suicide!"

O'Connell shrugged and felt his pockets for his long lost cigarettes. A lump in the right pocket of the worn white shirt he wore betrayed a happy surprise. "Could be, but it's all we've got. Imhotep wants me and most likely he'll put me in the same place as Ardeth, if I know him. He and I can fight our way out with a little luck, but what I really need is someone to get Evy and Jonathan out. I'm not leaving them there." He accepted a light from Mayadeh waited for her brother to go off on a tirade.

He was pleasantly surprised. The other man _did_ look a bit apprehensive, but nevertheless nodded. "Okay. We will work with you on this. Believe it or not I do trust your instincts when you aren't letting your heart guide you. We will try."

Rick inhaled deeply with anticipation growing in him. Things were actually starting to look…sideways. Well, it was better than down, he conceded. "Try hard, Ahamad. Those are my friends and like it or not, helping them might just help us all. We all defeated Imhotep once and we can do it again."

The Arab smiled slyly at that and grabbed a bottle on the table before him. Uncapping it, he sat up and looked to both Rick and his sister. "We celebrate the life of Imhotep's enemy tonight."

~~~~~~~

The darkness was getting to him. Everything was getting to him, including the non-stop journey through these dreadful tunnels. He had taken so many turns in fleeing from the dead that he had lost track of where he was going. This place was huge, dirty, blacker than blindness and he had the sneaking suspicion that he had slowly worked his way deeper.

The shuffling that followed him always had stopped for the time being, meaning he had gained far enough to rest for a few moments. Out of breath, Ardeth leaned against the cold wall and slid down against it. He was shaking uncontrollably now. Exhaustion was spreading through his weakening body. Soon there would be no running from these beings. Soon he would not be able to.

It felt hopeless. In his youth he had been a little wary of hope, always willing to consider that victory might not be attainable. Back when he had first met Rick, Evy and Jonathan he had been the first to say the beginning of the end had begun with Imhotep's resurrection. But over the years he had come to believe he had grown out of that. Belief in victory had come easier with the defeat of the mummy priest. Never in the seven years that followed would he have thought that one sentence would turn out to be true.

Truly this was the apocalypse and indeed Imhotep had heralded it. Ardeth ran a filthy hand through his dark hair. His arm ached with the action where the priest had cut him. He shivered when he touched it and hissed in a breath. The blood was dry, but the slash tender and easily opened. His side ached as well.

He dropped his hand onto the rough floor below and leaned his head against the wall, taking in the heavy, dirty air as if it were pure and refreshing. The footsteps of the dead could be heard now, if only slightly. They were coming for him, coming and he was too weak to fight.

Cradling his arm to his chest, Ardeth staggered to his feet and instinctively looked around, though no vision greeted him. There was no source of light at all in this terrible place. No sense of direction, no sounds except the unending shuffling and moaning, no way out. No hope. In his tiredness Ardeth walked slowly, intent on fighting until the very last despite these things.

Unfortunately the very last would come before escape. This felt all wrong, but what could he do? He had already fought off three undead, only to have them replaced by five more with greater bloodlust.

He thought of his people and wondered about the last battle. Had they fought bravely? Of course they had. They were Med-Jai, proud and strong. With their last breath they would have struck against Imhotep if they could. All his family, all his friends, gone. Left in a field to be displayed in dishonor. He felt his cheeks warm when silent tears raced down. Gritting his teeth, Ardeth pressed on through the darkness.

He thought of Rick and Jonathan, his two friends. He knew not what fate had befallen them. It didn't matter. Imhotep would find them and eventually destroy them. He turned down a hallway, hoping to elude those in pursuit of him.

He thought of Evelyn and the softness and warmth of her body, her life filling his senses in the Field of the Med-Jai. The world needed him and she had called him back to that task. Now he had failed and Imhotep would continue his dominion over her. She had gifted him with hell and a burden too heavy to bear, but Evy had also gifted him hope, though she did not see it. He was failing her. Failing the world that needed him.

Ardeth, in his tiredness, faltered and fell to the floor, biting back a cry against the pain in his body. A momentary temptation to remain entered his mind. His heart was heavy and the odds sorely against him. But he thought of Evy again, and of his people. Using his uninjured arm, Ardeth dragged himself up through hurt and sorrow to his feet and continued on with grim determination. He may well die down here, forgotten and lost, but even if all the ages to come would think him a failure, _he_ would know he hadn't given up on hope.

He could see no light at the end of the long dark, but that did not matter. This place would not defeat his heart, nor Imhotep or any other horror. He owed that to the honor of his people and to Evelyn's faith that awakened him. Ardeth heard the moaning ring loudly through his ears and knew they were at his heels. He turned back and though he couldn't see them closing in on him, he knew they were there by training and instinct. This was it.

Without sight it was hard, but his training helped him pinpoint where they were likely to be. He kicked out and heard the rattle of bones hit a wall ahead. Another creature came toward him with pawing, hungry hands and growls, and he fought that one off too. A third swung around to the rear and took a hold of his strong shoulders, dragging him back, but he continued to struggle. He would fight to the death.

But they were too numerous for victory. They kept coming and as his body hit the ground hard he knew it would be over here. Panting for air and being clawed by the undead that surrounded him, Ardeth grasped at the dirty floor beneath him and let his mind flash to images of his life. "I'm sorry, Evy," he breathed, feeling slim, brittle fingers wrap around his clothes and extremities. A mummy grasped his injured arm and he groaned, but the sounds of otherworldly shrieking drowned him out.

The creature howled and sputtered as if struck and he could hear it stumble back. Instantly all hands left him and the others withdrew, shuffling to a safe distance. He could hear them hissing amongst themselves a few feet away, one thing, one word that may have been a curse, he could discern in his confusion. Light. He might have wondered with more urgency what that meant, too, but for the final exhaustion that came over him.

Ardeth trembled in the coolness of this underworld and as he did, one voice called to him from the infinite black, speaking in a harsh tone both a command and a prayer. "Die," it hissed malevolently and that was the last Ardeth heard. He gasped out in pain after that, then surrendered to the dark.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean and Mayadeh belong to me.

**A/N**: Notes on Imhotep: Yes, he is immortal, fully regenerated and at full powers. No human may cause him pain—but Ardeth. In the chapter Field of the Med-Jai, Ardeth was able to draw blood from Imhotep, which I had assumed from the movies, wouldn't have been possible. Rick hadn't when he chopped our Mummy's arm off, but for some reason he's vulnerable to Ardeth's attacks in my story. ;-) Which will be explained in the next chapter, actually. So yes, Imhotep can howl in pain because Ardeth can cause that pain.

**To Reviewers**: 

**J-James** – Lol…no Evy/Imhotep, eh? Don't read my next fic. :-O ;-) Anyway, thanks!! As for Ardeth, well, unfortunately he's got a little more time to do in the dark. Poor guy. That would drive me insane, wandering around without sight, hearing things follow. Anyway, thank you for the compliments on the Field of the Med-Jai…definitely my favorite chapter, the one I'm most pleased with so far. :-)

**Marxbros** – For explanation on Immy, see A/N. :-) As for the feel, yeah, last chapter might have been lacking of atmosphere, unfortunately, now that I think of it. Which is why I tried to get a little more detailed this chapter—after watching Star Wars extras and a Lord of the Rings documentary on the making, being inspired to throw myself more into setting up the feel. I plan to introduce a few different atmospheres as the time goes by, but I'll try and maintain that lost sadness. :-) Thanks for your review…though that might have not been what you meant, it made me think a little bit more on detail. :-D That's always good, always nice to improve.

**Marcher** – Yeah, I feel sorry for him too. ;-) Poor man only loved a girl! Look what he got! Of course, he did ask for a lot of it, I spose. I find it sometimes hard to make him totally evil though. Anyway, you so sure I won't kill Ardeth?? ;-) Muahahaha. Gollum, eh? Well, it wasn't my intent with that particular character, but you've come close to another character I'm going to bring in. :-) *looks at TV in side commentary—Sean Bean and Viggo Mortensen are very hot* Anyway, thanks a bunch!!

**Eve** – I'm very pleased you could continue, I know my pairings aren't everyone's cup of tea. :-) Makes me very happy that the story redeems itself. I've a little crush on Ardeth myself, so I see your mom's point. ;-) I hope they continue to fill in his character in the rumored 3rd movie.

**Serena** – Thank you muchly for your review! :-) It means a bunch to me…let's me know I'm not drowning out here, ya know? :-)

**Lula** – Thank you thank you thank you, my friend, for the inspiration your review has given. Though I'm far from writing the scene you've made me envision, I'm very thankful for it and can't wait to start it. ;-) Thank you very much for your compliments! I'm glad the story is enjoyed as much as I enjoy writing it! *looks at screen again…Hugo Weaving is too cute* 

**JonnyCarnahan** – While the story focuses on Ardeth and his quest, Jonathan will have his place and will appear as much as Rick and have his own part to play, which I've planned for later. So he won't be left in the background too much. :-) Thanks!!****


	7. The Beginning

**Speak Softly**  
The Beginning

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Rick stalked through the streets of a little settlement as morning crept over the face of the earth. He was alone, but looking for a particular type of people; the type that would haul him to the capitol as quickly as possible so he could get this unpleasant business done with. Dressed in his coffee colored desert robes, wrapped up to his nose in cloth, he walked on silent feet and glanced around. This little place seemed pretty small and innocent, but it was not untouched by Imhotep's presence.

There was an Anubis Jackal standing near the edge of town, its tireless eyes always watching for anything out of the ordinary that its thirst for blood be quenched. He didn't necessarily want to deal with that thing if he could help it. Those creatures had a tendency to forget just how fragile humans were and while being scraped up and clawed could get the adrenaline pumping, Rick was sure he had dozens of injuries to look forward to after Imhotep dealt with him.

A woman carrying a water jug approached, dressed in black and also wrapped to the nose, her movements soundless and sorrowful as she came from the well in the center of town. She inclined her head to peer at Rick and her eyes widened at his appearance. Those blue eyes got him every single, blessed time. The jug hit the sand, spilling its precious water and she stumbled away rapidly. "No, no, no! Geez, lady!" Rick stammered, waving his hands to quiet her as she called for the guards. "Please!"

It was too late. Stirred by her yelling, the jackal growled and turned, then broke into a run. Rick winced and went to his knees, holding his hands out in surrender, shouting, "I give! I give!" _Maybe_ the jackal would cut him some slack…

It was obviously puzzled by Rick's ease, but nevertheless wore an expression of violence. Inhuman breathing filtered to O'Connell's ears as it bent down and took him by the shoulders. He gasped as it ripped him up from the sand and shoved him forward. A claw pointed towards a small building ahead.

Rick walked on without a fight, thankful he'd made it this far without getting his fool head torn off. Perhaps this wasn't such a good plan after all. There had to be an easier way to reach Ardeth. What would Imhotep do with him if he were captured?

The jackal slammed the front door of the building open and pushed Rick through the opening into a blandly decorated front room. A pudgy, tan man sat in inside, eating breakfast at a decidedly well-made, unmarred table—probably the most beautiful object in the stark beige here and somewhat out of place. He wiped his mouth and waved his hand in irritation. "What is the meaning of this, you stupid creature?"

The creature growled and hissed at its hated master and shoved Rick forward and to his knees. A dead hand ripped O'Connell's turban off, exposing his fair coloration. Rick smiled as if it were the most natural thing in Egypt. "Got any more of those eggs? I get so little nutrition these days."

Widening his eyes, the man stood up and came closer to examine his new acquisition. "On your feet," he commanded and Rick obeyed. "You have blue eyes. Are you the one Imhotep seeks?"

"That'd be me," Rick replied in mock-cheer. He looked down at the plate of food hungrily. Fighting against Imhotep wasn't exactly a healthy career. "You gonna eat that? Rice only gets a person so far."

The Arab scowled and sat back down, taking his fork again and ignoring his captive's obvious needs. "You are as smart tongued as he said you would be. Now my question is, are you trying to trap me or are you stupid?" He chewed a bite and waited for a reply, his face mild. Perhaps he could be reasoned with?

O'Connell shrugged and crossed his arms. "Does it matter, if Imhotep is as invincible as you fanatics think? You want the truth? I'm sick of this war. I'm sick of starving and worrying and hiding. I just wasn't made for this I guess."

Grunting the man nodded and pointed with his fork. "You westerners are pampered brats. So you commit suicide, then?"

"If that's where it takes me." There was some small bit of truth to that statement, but Rick prayed it wouldn't go that far. "But I'm hoping that if I turn myself in instead of getting caught on the road somewhere, your 'divine' master will cut me a deal. What do you think?"

The other man smirked and took another bite of his food and Rick was thankful for his ease. He could stand another day or two without unending pain. "Who knows?" he continued, watching Rick. "He is a strange man. So you will go without a fight, then? I am required to present you to him."

Rick grabbed a chair from the table, causing the jackal to approach, but before it could attack he turned it around and straddled it. He snatched a piece of toast off the man's plate without asking and grinned at the expression it won him. "Hey, you're gonna get a big reward for turning me in. You can afford to give me some toast."

The city leader waved his hand, leaned back in his chair and sized Rick up for a long moment. "I think you are lying about why you come forward, but it will make no difference. What you hope to prove by this escapes me, for Imhotep is vastly powerful. I think there is not a man on this planet that could stop him, nor could this world join together and succeed."

O'Connell looked down at the table, fighting back the urge to tell this man there was in fact one man that could possibly stop all this madness. He exhaled and looked around the little room for anything beautiful. It had been so long since he had seen anything beautiful that wasn't in some way destroyed or marked. Perhaps this shiny table was it, proving it didn't pay to serve Imhotep. "Yep. You could be right. If he could be stopped, though, what would you think about that, mister…?" The man across from him looked up warily and he shrugged. "Just curious."

"Abul," he replied gruffly with a frown. "And what I think does not matter. There is no point in speculating on the hypothetical, O'Connell. Ask me nothing more of that nature." He leaned back. "I am curious, though. Do you honestly believe Imhotep may have mercy upon you? From what I have heard, you are a very hated man Mr. O'Connell."

Rick scratched his cheek and nodded, then smiled. "What can I say? When you got it, you got it. Imhotep and I are natural enemies. Only problem is he's got spells and me, I'm stuck with mortality. He's got the upper hand right now." Abul's brows narrowed at that last and Rick cursed himself his slip of the tongue. He decided it was best to leave it be. "I've been fighting for a year and what have I accomplished? If I've managed to make a tiny dent in the power of Imhotep, I'd ask for a recount." He sighed and looked the other over. "All I want to do is see Evy again."

Abul's eyes widened at this, then a cynical grin spread across his unshaven face. "Nefertiri, Whore of Imhotep?" He flinched at Rick's glare that came with the use of that particular nickname Evy had acquired throughout Egypt, but kept on. "You really do wish to commit suicide. I hope you'll have the sense not to ask him."

Rubbing his arm and looking down at the table, Rick said low, "We'll see." Getting to Ardeth was important, but to see Evy again? It seemed worth the chance of asking, daring Imhotep's further anger. Even if Imhotep killed him. Rick looked up into Abul's dark, curious eyes and stepped back into the moment. "So, what are you gonna do with me? When do we leave?"

The Arab took another bite of his breakfast and looked to the creature still guarding behind the ex-Legionnaire. "You, take the message to Lord Imhotep. Tell him O'Connell has given himself up and will be delivered in two days."

Rick listened as the creature hissed and jerked open the entrance, then slammed the door shut again. Abul rolled his eyes, got up from the table and went to a nearby desk. When the drawer opened he pulled out a set of manacles. "I never thought I would use these on the famed Rick O'Connell." He motioned Rick over and with a sigh he obeyed. The manacles snapped down on his wrists and he couldn't help but feel nervous about that. "We will leave within the hour. Lord Imhotep will be eager to see you and well, let's just say anything one does for him will be done in a timely manner or else."

Grunting his thoughts about that, Rick smirked and looked down at his bindings. He knew the reasons behind what he was doing, but a part of him felt like this was giving up. Abul yanked him forward by his chains and Rick knew this man wouldn't be bought, no matter how friendly he acted during dialogue. He was brought in back to a small jail and locked away. Inside the room was one single Anubis Jackal that eyed him through a lifeless, cold stare. Rick sighed and sat down in his cell, watching as his jailor left the room. This was the beginning.

~~~~~~~

_Ardeth laughed. His laughter seemed to drown out all the silence. It was uncontained and light-hearted and stealing his breath away until he feared passing out. And even then he laughed more._

_Beside him Sajul also laughed as they sat together on the well. The early morning sun was creeping towards them and soon others would begin to rise, if they hadn't already because of all the noise. They were happy to be home, so happy and peaceful after a long, hard night's ride through danger. If felt so good to just sit and enjoy a good joke. Ardeth smiled and shook his head. "Sajul, we are waking the others with our nonsense." He could see a tent flap crack open as undoubtedly someone watched to see what the commotion was about._

_Sajul waved his hand and took the dipper from the bucket, quenching his thirst. "Let them be angry. After surviving last night we deserve a moment's foolishness." He breathed out and offered his friend some water. "Oh, Ardeth. I did not believe we were going to make it last night. Those three warriors were fierce."_

_Wiping some stray water from the side of his mouth, Ardeth nodded and took a long breath, appreciating the air around him a little more. His mind traveled back to the men that had attacked. Five men, wearing clothing of the same make—a tribe Ardeth had never encountered before. There was something about them that made him nervous. They hadn't put up much of a fight here at the Med-Jai encampment, but once Ardeth and Sajul rode out to chase them off they had fought with a speed and calculation to rival the Med-Jai. He felt lured out for some reason. "That they were, my friend." He pulled his navy turban off and enjoyed the remaining coolness of morning. "Something troubles me."_

_His friend eyed him, the same thought reflected in his own eyes. He shook his head. "No, I have never before seen those men or any like. They did seem to fight with a unity that comes with shared training. And their clothing matched."_

_"Yes," Ardeth breathed, taking another drink and handing it back. "I think we may have a new enemy in the desert." He looked out across the sands as if somehow the answers would come to him, but there were none. He stood. "We will speak with the elders, but I am exhausted. I think we've earned a nap, Sajul. Do you agree?"_

_The other man grinned and nodded his head, his dark eyes glancing in the direction of his tent. "Yes, I agree with you there, my friend. Face it, Ardeth. We are getting too old to be doing this."_

_Laughing, Ardeth shook his head and began for his own tent. "Speak for yourself. I'm still young and strong and have many years of battle ahead of me." His friend grunted and laughed._

_Ardeth yawned and swallowed, wandering through the dimness to his tent. He entered gratefully and stretched, then removed his belt and robe. As soon as it hit the floor he was down on his bed. Sleep crawled into his body and settled until he was cozy and half-conscious._

_But it didn't last. It seemed as soon as he had fallen asleep he was jarred back from it. A chill spread through his body as he heard Sajul's shout. He was being called for. Ardeth snapped awake and was back up, reaching for his robe. "Ardeth!" the voice of his friend yelled once more, desperation hidden within his urgent tone. He clothed himself and grabbed for a weapon…_

_"Ardeth!"_

Ardeth blinked and opened his eyes. Nothing met his wakefulness. There was nothing. Not even those undead creatures shuffling in the shadow. Memories of last night cycled through his mind. He had been surrounded and pawed at by those vile creatures. Their claws had dug into his flesh in several still throbbing places. He could remember his sliced arm being grabbed as well. Then they had all let go.

He sat up and scooted back into a wall, leaning against the cool surface to gather his thoughts. Bay rubbed his hands together and sighed at the dirty grit covering them, wondering why had they left him alone. He had been prepared for death. Was their mercy something to fear?

His dream lingered with him, despite his wonderings. He could still hear Sajul laughing and it made him ache to think of. His people were gone, including his brother-friend. Ardeth tightened his hands into fists and closed his eyes, searching his memory though his heart begged him not to continue. That had been his last morning on this earth. It seemed strange to him that his last day would begin so happily.

Ardeth fought back the rest that came after the calling of his name. He had no desire to relive it. As it was a distraction offered itself up. A sound from the darkness to his left made him jump and a split second later he was on his feet, ready to battle, his death forgotten. "Ah, but it is your memories and passion that will see you through this," a voice rasped. The same voice that had wished him death before. "You will never find your way out if you kill me, Ardeth Bay. Put your instincts at rest."

Frowning, Ardeth still held himself ready and said, "And how do I know you won't end my life as soon as I lower my defenses?"

The voice laughed a mirthless, sarcastic laugh, then hissed in a breath and growled, "I cannot end your life, Chosen! You should know that by now!" He seemed to mourn that fact, almost.

"Who are you?" Ardeth asked, hearing this person or thing come closer. He brushed his hair back and blinked in need of sight. "What do you know of me?"

There was another moist intake of air as the creature considered the questions with scorn. "You have seen the other side," it answered with unconcealed envy. There was a deep throated groan that seemed somewhere between rage and despair. "You have seen the face of Heaven. It radiates all over you and blinds us! Oooh, how we hate you, Ardeth Bay! We would see you dead once again! Leave this place or we will find a way to make it happen!"

Ardeth heard groaning and hissing in the darkness, further on. The pure evil intent coming from these dead beings made his blood run cold. Still he held his ground and hardened his voice. "I would leave if I could. Who are you? What do you want of me?"

"I am called Necromancer by the priest, for I returned in death with more power than Imhotep had intended. I speak to the living for the dead and to the dead for the living." He hissed sharply and if Ardeth didn't know any better he could swear he perceived hands being raised towards him. "You are a bright being, Ardeth Bay. Your light fills this dark place and the sting of your blood is still upon my hands. Hhrrrr, I want you to leave this place!" There was a pained pause, then softer and more deadly, "I know you, Med-Jai. I know you for who you truly are. You are not welcome in my home beneath the surface of the earth."

Exhaling and growing very tired of the scent of death, Ardeth stepped back a pace and lowered his defenses. "I wish to leave here but the tunnels are dark and the exit guarded. I fear I may be down here for quite some time."

Necromancer exhaled loudly and snapped, "Then take your own life!"

The command caught him off guard and its thorough hatred made his pulse quicken. This was worse than Imhotep. Much worse. He shook his head, not sure whether or not this creature would be able to see. "I cannot do that. I have a task before me."

The creature grunted at that. "So I have seen. You alone will stop Imhotep," it sneered sarcastically. But the necromancer conceded. "You may yet end his foul life, Chosen. Come and I will take you back to the entrance. There perhaps your light will be hidden from my children's eyes."

"And how do I know you won't harm me?" Ardeth asked warily. The idea of traveling with unseeing eyes beside this being was not exactly comfortable.

Necromancer growled back viciously, "I cannot kill you, though I desire it more than you can know! Hrrr, Chosen, you torment me with remembrance of that fact! I should leave you to rot in the deep, but for the blood you spill upon my grounds." Ardeth noticed again the pain of his side and arm, wondering why his blood would hurt these beings. Necromancer rasped in the silence. "Your blood is your life, Ardeth Bay. It is even brighter than your face is to my eyes. It burns to my cold touch, as I learned last night before I perceived what you truly are."

"And what am I?"

There was an intake of air. Why would a dead thing need breath? Perhaps it was bred of the ominous emotions clouding it, for there was no mistaking this thing's intentions toward him. Necromancer hated him very passionately. Hated what he was. "You," he started in a voice colored by that hatred, but lined with longing, "are a changed one. You carry the very stars in your blood, bright and transformed by Heaven's glory. Such power fills the emptiness of the cursed and hurts even one so powerful as Imhotep. Even one so lowly as me." The hurt there made Ardeth swallow, but Necromancer would have no pity. "We cannot be what you are and for that we despise you! Spare us no sorrow, for we crave your doom!"

Ardeth took a breath. This being seemed able to read his mind and that was bothersome. It chuckled darkly, confirming its ability. There could be no help for it. This could be his only chance. "Very well, creature of the dark. I will join you with watchful eyes."

Necromancer laughed mockingly at that. "Your eyes may yet see my face, Chosen, and when they do, pray the shadows pass from your heart. Now hold out your uninjured arm, that I may lead you."

Bay held out his arm apprehensively and waited. The necromancer gripped his wrist tightly and yanked him forward with surprising strength. He left little promise he would be any gentler as time progressed. Ardeth didn't like this dark being. As surely as they proclaimed he himself radiated light, it seemed to him this creature's evil corrupted the very walls of this dungeon. He could feel claws digging into his flesh, just this side of drawing blood. This necromancer hated him and would kill him in a second if presented with a way.

Ardeth wasn't sure how long it would take them to reach the entrance, but he prayed it would be sooner rather than later. He also prayed that Imhotep would not leave him down here, alone and forgotten. His escape may very well depend on the priest's taunting.

Necromancer growled upon Ardeth's thinking of Imhotep. "You hate him, don't you?" he asked quietly.

The undead being's hand tightened around his wrist to the point of pain. Its raspy voice was hateful. "He must pay for this injustice," was the only reply offered.

Ardeth fought to loosen Necromancer's iron grip to no avail. Imhotep would have to pay for a lot of things by the end of this war. But Ardeth could see now there were worse evils than even the priest.

~~~~~~~****

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul, Necromancer and a few other, less significant originals belong to me. **Author**: Angela – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com

**A/N**: Hey everyone! I can't think of any notes, really, except that I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Nice to see Ardeth picked up a little pal, huh? ;-) lol.

**To Reviewers**:

**Marcher** – Aaaw…thank you muchly for your kindness!! :-) As for P/C cigarettes, I spose if I were in their world I would have a few vices myself. ;-) I could swear he had one somewhere in The Mummy, but of course I could be wrong. Hmm.

**Elven Sapphire** – Wow! Thanks very much! I'm glad you're enjoying it so. :-)

**Jacqui** – Thanks…I appreciate any reviews whenever anyone can offer them. :-) So I thank you that you could take time…I know sometimes there isn't the time to do so and so forth.

**Lula** – Lol…queen of the dark, eh? Yeah, us writers gotta keep finding new ways to torment Ardeth…lol. So I figured darkness would be as good as anything. Next time I'll use bugs! Lol…no, on second thought, I don't know if I could go that far. That would be my personal Hell…lol. Anyway, thanks for your compliments on my descriptives. I've been watching those DVD extras on Star Wars and LOTR and learning how these directors think and pay attention to details, from settings to the way someone walks into the room. Inspired me to flesh things out. :-) You know George Lucas helped Peter Jackson? I thought that was nice.

**J-James** – Er…he'll be out sometime before chapter 10…;-) That I'm sure of. Thanks muchly for the review…hope I don't keep you in too many pins and needles with Ardeth all dungeoned. :-O ;-)

**Marxbros** – Yeah, I figured you may not have meant that, but eh…I myself wonder about my own work. Hehehe. Trying to keep it as atmospheric as I can. But anyway thanks for reading and reviewing…when am I gonna see more **Hereafter**, girlie?? -) Not that I'm in any way pressuring you…*cough*. ;-) Jk.

**Deana** – Hey! Thanks! I don't go for the dark, personally, so being trapped in it would be kinda anxious for myself. Lol. And of course having dead things after me…that wouldn't be fun atall. Poor Ardeth…I'd have to have him with me. ;-) :-)


	8. Excuse Me, Forgive Me

**Speak Softly**  
Excuse Me, Forgive Me

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Jonathan stood out on the large terrace adjoining the grand dining hall where the king held all of his gloating feasts. The morning after a storm was quite pleasant—the now moist Egyptian air soothing and cozy and the endless dunes and jagged, dusty slate bathed in unnatural mist. It was really quite beautiful out here, melancholy and mysterious. These were the few moments each day Jonathan could find peace before his grueling work in the field below. Too soon he would be called to his work, building the great statue of Imhotep that would stand to overlook the land.

He hated that thing. He hated the likeness and the man. Yet every day he slaved over the creation of this honoring monument to the priest's so-called glory for the sake of his sister. He was all Evy had left now and to run away or get himself killed for the sake of escape was not an option.

Evy needed him most of all, but Rick also counted on him to watch over her, to help her through Imhotep's insanity because he himself could not. The ex-Legionnaire had forbidden Jonathan to tell her that he was even alive for fear he would be killed and it would hurt her further. Evy was probably going to kill _him_ when she found out.

Jonathan couldn't find out what had happened to Ardeth. No one had seen the Med-Jai brought in, nor heard a word from the pharaoh about him. Of course that didn't mean Ardeth was dead, Imhotep could be quite crafty when he chose, but all in all the evidence seemed to point to the idea that perhaps when the priest had claimed Evy, he had killed Ardeth then and there and left him in the Field of the Med-Jai. Jonathan did _not_ want to tell her that. She was going to ask him if he had heard anything and what would he be able to say?

Evy seemed very bothered by Ardeth's death and naturally she should be—he was their friend, but Jonathan worried for her. There was so little reason to hope these days. Sometimes he himself would drown his sorrows in a bottle and count the years ahead of him. But he had to stay here for her sake. There was no way he would leave her to Imhotep, all alone to deal with the priest and his obsession. Imhotep would never let her go. Jonathan had thought for sure if caught waking Ardeth, Evy would be killed for her daring to do such a thing, but she had gotten away with it.

Footsteps sounded from behind, but Jonathan didn't bother to turn. He wanted to watch the morning progress. It soothed his nerves. "Pleasant, is it not?" came the voice of the very man weighing on his mind as he approached quietly, but with enough presence that Jonathan could almost feel him coming.

He took a drink from the small glass he'd set on the railing. "Yes," he answered simply, then swirled the contents of his glass around. "One of the few things that are in this god forsaken place." Turning around, he saw the priest regarding him neutrally, clad in deepest black as was befitting of such a person. His attire, his whole palace breathed of inner darkness and intimacy with death. "What can I do for you, Pharaoh?"

"Mmm," Imhotep hummed, pacing a little with a thoughtful face. He rubbed his finger against his lip and looked up. "You are willing to serve me without question?"

Grunting at that and taking another drink, Jonathan shrugged. "You act as if I have a bloody choice in the matter. I'm not leaving Evy alone with you." He winced at the expression on the priest's face.

Nevertheless, Imhotep ignored that for the moment and waved his hand. "Your motives matter not to me, but the continued obedience does. What I want of you is simple. I wish for you to consider Nefertiri's future and what is best for her."

That sounded good on the surface, but there was a reason he was saying it. A likely dark and terrible reason that the priest would spring on him at any given moment. Jonathan nodded his head and knit his brows, preparing for such a thing. "I always do, Imhotep. Always do."

The other folded his arms together before him and smiled. There was something in those dark eyes that made Jonathan nervous when he spoke. "Good. That is also my aim, brother of Nefertiri, though you may not believe that. I wish to provide for her the best life I can."

Jonathan shook his head, daring to interrupt. He _had_ to at that. "The best life? Why not let her go, then?" Imhotep instantly appeared annoyed.

"Do not question my provisions, servant. I will keep my own counsel on what is best." His tone was hard, but not nearly as hard as it could be as he glared, then turned his attention on the morning. "I have offered her a life at my side as queen. Nefertiri will have only the finest this world can offer. Only the finest that I can offer, including how she and I interact. I am no fool. I know material things and power do not influence her, but what will matter is how she is treated and the overall quality of life for her."

Shaking his head, Jonathan raised his hands and shrugged. He took a good drink, finishing the contents of his glass. "Queen? You…you want her to be your queen? No offence, old boy, but why would you even consider she would accept, if she indeed has any choice in the matter?"

The priest paused as he came to rest his hands on the black railing separating onlookers from their deaths, his eyes downcast as he considered. "You are right," he conceded. "Immediately she has no reason to accept. It is not a marriage of love I offer, but of peace between us. I have hurt her enough. If she agrees to become my queen I will give her only the best of this world and the best of myself. She is a princess, proud and strong. Jonathan, do you understand what I offer and what kind of life she would be leaving behind her? There is nothing left in this world for her but what I can give her."

Jonathan stayed quiet a moment, mulling these things over. Naturally the priest had some sort of hidden agenda—he'd be a fool to believe this was out of the goodness of his heart, but what was best for Evy? Everything inside of him, every ounce of pride and rebellion against Imhotep screamed against such a thing as his sister marrying him, but what if the priest did treat her better? What if that was the only hope she had? Would being a queen be better than being a concubine? Right now she was a toy for Imhotep's pleasure, but he knew enough of the man to see that try as he might, he did not think in present day terms.

To Imhotep Evy was a princess and perhaps there was something inside of him that still respected her divinely given place as the daughter of a pharaoh. He was less than honorable, but he did not hold his ancient gods and their ways in contempt. No, giving Imhotep what he wanted—no matter how attractive it seemed—would be wrong…wouldn't it? He looked up uncertainly. "Why do you want this? Why should it matter to you whether my sister is a slave or a queen?"

Imhotep exhaled thoughtfully. "You have not the memories of the past. You do not understand how I knew her. I will make her pay the debt she owes me, make no mistake. But that does not change how I felt for that young girl who looked to me as a teacher once. I gave all I was for Ancksunamun because of my undying love, not out of greed or for power. Is it truly so hard to believe I would forget who Nefertiri was to me?"

"Yes," Jonathan answered right away, making Imhotep frown. What else could be possibly expect, if indeed he wanted truth from his slaves? "Well, what do you want me to say? You've turned the bloody world upside down! Maybe you do have a caring bone in your body somewhere, but I'm not doing anything where Evy's concerned if I don't believe it's the right thing. Just what do you want me to do, anyway?"

The priest eyed Jonathan, then once again looked across his country. "I only wish you to talk with her. Tell her what you believe of my proposal, be it for or against. Do what is best for your sister."

Before Jonathan could comment further a cough came from the doorway. Nashean entered with a hard expression and bowed before his king. He held up a paper with hieroglyphs on it, but Imhotep took it before Jonathan could read anything. The priest skimmed through the message and then curled his lips into a smile Jonathan found unsettling. He looked up, saying, "Think on my words," as he swept away, the ever-pleasing Nashean trailing his feet like a dog.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and rubbed a hand down his face, muttering, "Bloody hell." He could hear the slaves gathering below to begin another day's work and now he didn't even have the calm of morning to pave the way to his hard labor. Much more had just been laid upon his shoulders, another worry to add to the long list. Now would be a good time for a rescue, but what if that never came? What would be best for them—for Evy?

~~~~~~~

_"Ardeth!"_

_The shouting shook every nerve in his body. He could hear the sound of hooves beating into the sand. Many hooves. Ardeth raced from his tent, holding his weapon tightly. Other Med-Jai warriors came from their homes, half dressed and confused as to what was happening. What Ardeth saw made his eyes widen. This was wrong. His people were unprepared. The night guard cried out for the Med-Jai to awaken._

_Heading for the encampment was a large body of men dressed the same as the five he and Sajul had contended against last night. Instantly he realized last night had likely been a test of the strength of the Med-Jai. With a shout Ardeth raced through his brothers and straight for the battle being waged nearby. Sajul was at the head of the attack, fighting off two men on horseback._

_Soon enough he himself was in the center of battle as three men jumped from their steeds and approached him. The first of them kicked out and Ardeth dodged in time for a second to send his fist into his chin. He fell to the sand, feeling it's gritty roughness between his fingers. The sounds of swords clashing filled his ears._

_He rolled over before the sword of his foe could cut into him. Ardeth pulled himself up and swung his scimitar, slicing into the skin of the third enemy before he could even offer an attack. Another came at him from behind, but Ardeth took care of that with a backward thrust. The third slashed and he deflected. Another man behind him kicked him down to the sand again. Looking up, Ardeth saw Sajul fighting five of these men. The other Med-Jai, very nearly his brother all his long years, glanced and met Ardeth's eyes. There was real fear written with those dark depths. That made Ardeth nervous for some reason._

_Ardeth again yanked himself from the sands and fought off another enemy, then another and another. It was a dance he knew well. The fighting became a blur as he let go of thought and trusted his instincts. He took out a great many foes that way. Soon only bodies surrounded him._

_The pained whinny of a horse drew his attention and Ardeth whirled around. A large, dark man halted his mount and drew his leg over the saddle. When his feet hit the sand it seemed unnaturally loud to him. Those dark eyes burned in hatred. "So you are Ardeth Bay," he said in contempt, drawing his sword._

_"I am," Ardeth replied with an incline of his chin. He held himself in the defensive. "I'm afraid I haven't the same advantage of knowing the name of the one I fight." The dark man slashed out at Ardeth, a blow easily deflected._

_With a grim smile the man kept flawless eye contact, oblivious to what was going on around them. Ardeth didn't like this man who seemed to have come solely for him. "My name is Lock-Nah, Med-Jai. A name your people will remember with hatred because today I am going to kill you."_

_Ardeth laughed at that and deflected, then struck out at this man. "I cannot tell you how many times I have heard that, Lock-Nah. That threat does not carry the weight you may have intended it to." It was true and yet somewhere inside not. _Foolishness_, Ardeth thought to himself. He knew someday that threat would be followed through, but not today. Not if he had anything to do with it._

_Lock-Nah pressed into Ardeth with a three-blow attack, all three fought off with great effort on Ardeth's part. He was certainly going to try to see his threat to success. Lock-Nah grinned darkly and kicked Ardeth in the stomach, causing him to double over momentarily._

_Fighting back suddenly nausea at that, Ardeth stumbled back and thrust his scimitar forward. Lock-Nah dodged, but the blade nicked the skin of his large bicep. Those black eyes were amused instead of enraged. He attacked Ardeth with a vengeance, sending quickly delivered, strong blows that Ardeth fought to keep up with._

_But he blocked every thrust of the sword from damaging his body. Every single one. All others left them alone. This battle was between them and something about it seemed important, though why Ardeth could not guess. Not until it was too late._

_Lock-Nah sneered and kicked the Med-Jai away long enough to drop his sword and draw a gun. Two shots rang out and at first Ardeth questioned whether or not he had even been hit. But there was a sudden sensation somewhere near his right kidney that confirmed Lock-Nah's success. Ardeth groaned as the tingling became pain. He fell to ground with a thud he knew he would remember forever._

_Inhaling slowly, Ardeth blinked and gazed up into the sky. The sun was rising. Lock-Nah blocked the lovely view and stood over his left. "You see? I spoke truth to you and in your arrogance you did not believe. Foolish Med-Jai."_

_Bay reached a shaking hand up to his hip and felt along until his fingers crossed the tear in his robe. Blood already poured out from his wound, but he didn't think it was a killing blow. But what came next would be._

_In his peripheral vision he saw Lock-Nah's foot draw back. A dozen or so things flashed through his mind, from the laughter of friends and family, to ways of escaping this. There were none. Suddenly life seemed to change and he knew what would come would be irrevocable. He felt something violently slam into his head and could perceive his neck suddenly hurting, but after that there was just…nothing. Absolute and unfathomable nothingness that swallowed him whole with an iron, unshakable grip. He couldn't stop it._

_Ardeth slipped away._

Waking up fast, Ardeth widened his eyes and sat suddenly, his whole body shaking. The very air he took in had to be fought for and sweat poured from his forehead, moistening his dark hair. His heart pounded and he felt disoriented. Even in the dream he could feel himself slipping away, whether a part of him truly left or perhaps in remembrance. His heart was beating rapidly. That alone convinced him that he still lived. His vision could not offer the same comfort.

"You fought bravely," a voice rasped. Necromancer. He was still with the necromancer. It started coming back to him. In exhaustion he had insisted on rest, though despite this creature's assurance he still feared him. The tunnels were deep and long here and he simply could not have gone further.

Smoothing his hair back, Ardeth swallowed and tried in vain to see some small bit of light. There simply was nothing to see, but he just couldn't stop trying. "I've got to get out of this place," he breathed, aware that his hands still shook. The blackness felt like the end he had met years ago. If felt like slipping away, only this was perpetual slipping. This was a place between life and death.

Necromancer chuckled darkly at his unease and for a moment Ardeth wondered what this creature with rasping tones looked like. What had he been before? If he sensed that wonder, he gave no indication and offered no answer. "You know what I found interesting about your death? You felt a dark foreboding. I could sense it as I viewed your memory. Your spirit knew your time was growing close, but you simply could not accept it in your mortal mind."

That Ardeth could do without. This necromancer was beginning to wear on his nerves with his evil words and trespassing into his mind. "So you were in my mind?" he asked in unconcealed irritation. He grunted and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

"I hide nothing from you, Chosen. I examined your memories as quietly as I could, but the vision of your death was too powerful for me to contain. And so you saw it with me in the form of a dream." The creature paused as if considering. "I cannot see past the fatal kick Lock-Nah delivered you, but you did not pass then."

Ardeth couldn't remember past that either and wondered what had taken place in the hours between the injury and his death. "I was told that I died later that night. I had not regained consciousness." He imagined what the others might have done, finding him prone out on the battlefield. Had Sajul told Arya of her brother's fatal injury?

The quiet around them was unsettling and though horrible as it was, Ardeth welcomed Necromancer's talking. "The woman told you," he reflected. "I see her all over you, in your eyes and on your lips. This Evelyn gave you the terrible gift of life."

Sighing, Bay closed his eyes and shook his head softly, wondering if Necromancer was watching him. He seemed to see despite the lack of light. "It is not so terrible a gift. I see it as a blessing that she felt she could put her faith in me to help. It shows me that in my life before I was a good friend to her."

Necromancer snorted a laugh. "I see your mind, Chosen, even the things you yourself cannot see or won't admit to." Ardeth said nothing and the creature hissed in a triumphant breath, continuing. "You doubt your ability and even in the infinite caring that is your heart a piece of you is angered by her thoughtless gift. I know anger well, Med-Jai and can sense it in you."

"Perhaps I am angry with you for your endless rambling and arrogant assumptions," Ardeth retorted hotly.

His tone didn't phase the monster beside him. It only rasped in amusement. "Believe what you will, Ardeth Bay. But know that this woman will betray you."

That got Ardeth's attention and he rolled his eyes at himself because Necromancer would know no matter if he pretended it did not. Those sparkling brown eyes flashed into his memory and the pain she had felt because of his reaction to his people. She would never betray him. He couldn't imagine it. "You lie," he accused into the darkness.

"Perhaps," Necromancer replied and that more than a denial made Ardeth wonder. Its voice became a little more suggestive. "But I see your hurt. Your heart is broken. The Med-Jai are gone forever, you the last of their legacy. Can you hope to beat Imhotep? What good did your return do? Death calls you back, Ardeth Bay. Accept it."

Ardeth shoved those words and doubts from his thoughts, determined not to let this creature trick him. Instead he focused on the task ahead. "Enough of this talk, Necromancer. I wish to be at the entrance and away from you as soon as possible." He stood up and waited.

The creature pulled itself up and grabbed for Ardeth's uninjured arm to lead him once more. It jerked him forward and they began the rest of the journey. "Yes. Your welcome was worn out before you got here. A pity we had to stop and rest."

There was something about that that bothered him. Ardeth knit his brows. The tunnels were long, but not possibly even more than a day's journey even through twists and turns. He should have been able to withstand long enough to get away from Necromancer. His memories… "You did something to me, didn't you? You made me tired so you could sift through my mind."

"Yes, yes," Necromancer hissed hastily. His breathing rattled in whatever sort of chest a dead creature might possess. "I hide nothing. I do not fear you. You are important, Chosen. Very few have passed over to the other side and returned and those who have came with purpose. I wished to know all I could about you."

Frowning at that, Ardeth entertained shoving this beast away and traversing alone for the sake of privacy, but he knew he needed this sickening thing. It would be foolish to fumble through the dark when a guide was being offered. Necromancer seemed to know everything about him anyway and likely could find it no matter how far away he was.

He thought about Evy again, puzzling over what this creature meant by betrayal. How did Necromancer even know? This mind-leech had strange powers that even Imhotep was not privileged to. Why then didn't he take action against the hated priest? "Because he is the master of the dead!" Necromancer snarled, hostility pouring off of him. It made Ardeth want to take his arm back. Necromancer hissed and rasped, feeding his anger with continued hate. "He is untouchable by me because of that. I do not have the power to kill him and free my people. Hhrrr. I know not who to hate more between the two of you!"

There was nothing to be said about that. Ardeth had no desire to win this creature's approval by pointing out that he could bring about Imhotep's death. Let these dead things hate him, for he loathed them every bit as much. Necromancer grunted and clawed his wrist. "You think you are so good with your bright face and blood. You have much to go through before your destiny comes. We shall see if you hold true to what you were chosen for."

Ardeth nodded softly, knowing he could never conceal his doubts from this creature. He blinked his sightless eyes and exhaled deeply, saying, "Yes. That we will."

**~~~~~~~**

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul, Necromancer and a few other originals belong to me.

**A/N**: Don't you just love these long chapters that drag out plot tidbits?? ;-) I know…I know. I'm feeling angsty cause the action's lower and I don't wanna bore, but it's coming up soon! I promise Ardeth will see the light of day before he's too much older. ;-D Ricky's coming!

**To Reviewers**:

**Lula** – Thanks for the comments! I'm glad you like what's going on…I plan on developing Ardeth's little change and the side effects thereof as well as other things surrounding what a changed being's life force can do. :-D Yeppers, he's the chosen, chosen to bring Imhotep death. But what does that mean, anyway? ;-) Anyway, if Ricky's as munchy as I feel now, then by all means he needs to grab that toast! Thanks!

**Deana** – Thank you, my friend, what would I do without you? :-D Thanks for tips and pointing out my errors! You are awesome!

**Marxie** – Yeah, that's of course where I got some of that inspiration, from Buffsters. It's a shame they didn't develop that more, ya know? Would have been interesting. Thanks for the comments and for reading and reviewing **Fury** and **Passion**. I'm very pleased you like! :-)

Thanks everyone else…hope you're still with me after last week's mishap. Bleh. I wish ff.net could change the chapters right away! :-D Doh! Anyone seen **Two Towers**??? I can't until Saturday, doh!!! I saw me a walkin' treeee on a commercial though. ;-) And had a dream about Frodo riding on an elephant in a small room filled with water. The elephant was trying to start a whirlpool. Is that not insane??? Anyway, I dreamt the movie was boring! Can you imagine? Lol.****


	9. Between Old Friends

**Speak Softly**  
Between Old Friends

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Rick lifted shackled arms to his face, scratching through his itchy stubble. Licking his lips and exhaling loudly, he gazed out the window at the gray sky. Two days had passed and tonight he would meet with Imhotep. Tonight could mean the difference between life and death. But it wasn't like Imhotep to kill and be done with it. He liked to prolong suffering and death was seen as a way of escape. No, Rick had a feeling he would have a long, horrible life if Imhotep had his way.

The thought made him grunt and Abul beside him glanced his way. "Today is the day," he announced as if Rick didn't know it. He grinned at O'Connell and elbowed his arm. "Looking forward to it?"

Rick smirked and nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, you bet." More and more as the minutes passed into hours he thought about what he was doing and how foolish it really was. There was no guarantee Imhotep would put him with Ardeth. There wasn't even a guarantee Ardeth was still alive. _Nerves_, Rick reminded himself. _It's just nerves. You've always found a way out_. "How long?" he breathed, looking in his rearview mirror at the distant Field of the Med-Jai. It was small now, thankfully. He hated passing that place. It made him wonder how they could hope to succeed.

Abul looked up into his mirror and shrugged. The car eased off to the left towards Imhotep's grand palace. "I say no more than an hour or two. I'm pushing her as fast as she'll go."

Rick grunted and leaned back in his chair. He wondered what Evy was up to and if she would be there in the throne room when he was brought. He hoped not. It was probably disheartening enough for her to have been separated from one friend without having to see him thrown into the same place or killed.

He also wondered about that. There were stories about what lay beneath the palace of Imhotep. Some said horrors unimaginable, others claimed they themselves had seen a great torture chamber filled with machines the likes of which no decent person should see. Rick snorted and rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted anyone who had seen whatever was under the grand palace had lived to tell the tale. But _he_ would. He had to.

There were so many people counting on him and more importantly, Ardeth. They all did what they could to end this terrible war, but sometimes Rick's mind would look down the path that lead to failure. He usually shied away from it at that point, but right now he couldn't help but consider that. After that the most important thing would be to keep Ahamad's people safe and secret beneath the earth, to get Evy out, and Jonathan and Ardeth. Rick cared what happened to the world, but if Evy had to live under the rule of Imhotep for the rest of her life then he would rather be dead than live with the knowledge.

And then there was Ahamad and Mayadeh and their people. Mayadeh's little son, five years old and had lost his father at the start of this war. They were new friends, but touched his heart nonetheless. He didn't want to be there when and if they were destroyed like the Med-Jai.

Time seemed to pass slowly while these thoughts ate at him, but not slow enough. Before he knew it they were stopped before the large palace with three jackals heading their way. Abul rolled his window down and spoke at length with one before it was satisfied and motioned them through. His jailer pulled around the palace to a parking lot and Rick smirked, thinking it looked out of place with this style of building.

Abul got out and came around, opened Rick's door and pulled him out. With a grunt Rick followed him towards a small walkway decorated with water and plant life on either side. He was a brave man but anyone walking into this would have to be a little nervous. His hands started to shake again.

They came to the front of the palace and Rick looked up. It was complex, large and forbidding with its smooth obsidian walls, black as night and polished to shimmer like the water. It was both modern and ancient, lovely in the blue of dusk and fearsome during a storm. A very clear statement to the world of what sort of man ruled them. Abul took a hold of his arm and ushered him up the main staircase. There were jackals on every other large step, guarding their master's lair. He frowned at the climb. It was just like Imhotep, overstated and unnecessary.

When they reached the top Rick grunted and followed his captor into the warm entrance. The inside was as cold, though the beginnings of a more hospitable atmosphere shown through cream-colored drapes against the black walls and artwork displaying Egypt's history. There were statues in the main hall and a long burgundy carpet leading to two huge doors that were ornately decorated in silver hieroglyphs. Two jackals pushed open the heavy doors. Beyond Rick could see a black throne at the end of a large room where Imhotep was seated, waiting for him.

The priest was dressed in fine robes of navy and he wore the expression of a victorious king who delighted in his chance at justice, but knew because he was better, he must understand the faults of his enemy. Rick's eyes narrowed.

They approached and Imhotep held up one hand, stopping them before him. His dark eyes glared down upon Rick in thought. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned over and said something to a man standing by his side. This man also watched Rick as if he were lowly trash. "Lord Imhotep commands that you kneel, slave. He wishes to know why you are here."

"Son of a…" Rick grumbled as Abul elbowed him in the stomach. He swallowed his pride and did as he was told for the sake of winning the mercy of this monster, though it burned him to do so. "I'm here because I'm tired of everything. I want to ask for mercy for the people that used to fight with me. They know they can't win, so I'm offering myself in exchange for their safety. They won't interfere anymore. Tell him…tell him I know he's a reasonable man."

The aide turned back to his pharaoh and presumably repeated everything, hopefully as Rick had said it. He hated not knowing Ancient Egyptian. Imhotep's lips became a condescending smile as he regarded him with these words. He spoke to his translator. With a respectful nod, the aide looked back to Rick. "His Majesty graciously says he will consider your request. However he does not believe that is the real reason you are here. He wishes you to rethink your lies and come up with a more truthful answer."

Rick frowned up at the haughty priest, who merely continued smiling in reply. His eyes dared O'Connell to risk his anger. "Tell _Lord Imhotep_ that it isn't such an unbelievable thing to think I would give my life to save loved ones." He looked down, playing it up for all his worth. "I just want them to be okay. And I want to see Evy." Those blue eyes slid up to Imhotep's nearly black ones in what Rick hoped looked like broken need.

The translator spoke and Imhotep's smile vanished. He raised his chin, spoke and was handed a silver dagger. Rick tensed when he came off the throne. With a command suddenly two jackals were beside him, holding his arms so he couldn't fight. Imhotep's face was dark as he ripped his shirt open and dug the knife into his shoulder. Rick yelled out and struggled to no avail.

When Imhotep finished he drew the dagger out and tossed it to the floor, his stance regal and commanding. He glared Rick down and said something in his ancient tongue, but the only thing Rick understood was Nefertiri. Evy's name. The aide beside Imhotep's throne said, "Lord Imhotep regrets that he cannot grant your second request to see Nefertiri, but still offers to think over your first. The mark you bear now is his cartouche, naming you as his servant." Imhotep spoke more and the aide smiled darkly. "He says he hopes you will enjoy your stay here. You are to be taken to your quarters below."

Rick inhaled at that. He was walking out of this room with his life. First step accomplished. Now he could only pray Ardeth would be where he was going. He looked to Imhotep and the priest smiled again. Before he could think a fist was slammed into his cheek, knocking him violently back into a jackal. Rick whipped up and glared, watching Imhotep laugh and wave him off as if he were nothing. The jackals dragged him back from the throne and into the main hall.

Not walking fast enough for their liking, Rick received a few hits and clawings from the creatures that lead him to his so-called doom. As they raced through the halls Rick wondered where Evy was and if he would see her by some stray chance out here. When they arrived at a dark door near the back of the palace his hopes were dashed.

The jackals opened the non-descript door and shoved him in, then followed as he toppled down a few stairs. Before he could even catch his breath he was yanked up again and dragged the rest of the way down. It felt cold down here.

The first room they entered was one filled with implements of torment and torture. _Imhotep must like his prisoners to view this before being locked up_, he thought dryly. Some of these machines were pretty twisted, offering pain to any assortment of body parts and Rick wondered what sort of a mind would think them up. Obviously Imhotep had been reading up on his history to acquire these somewhat foreign devices.

Past that lay a typical dungeon with cells on either side of the hall. Rick looked into each, hoping to see Ardeth inside. They walked endlessly and numerous slaves looked up with hopelessness in their broken eyes. The jackals growled deep in their chests and continued dragging him. There was no sign of Ardeth.

Finally they reached a large door at the end of the hallway, which lead into a storeroom with another door. They opened that and Rick saw one torch with blackness beyond. It gave him the creeps. One of the jackals ripped the torch from the wall and gripped Rick's shirt, throwing him down the stairs. They laughed and followed, kicking him down when they got to him.

Rick groaned and fought his way to his feet, then dodged another merciless kick. He tried to stay ahead as the evil monsters closed in on him with bloodthirsty eyes. After what seemed like forever they finally reached a large, black door. One jackal ripped Rick away while the other unlocked and opened it.

Before they could react Rick grabbed the torch and threw himself into the black dungeon, then kicked the door shut. He listened to see if they would open the door to punish him. The only sounds that came back were a few growls and the click of the locking mechanism. Rick smoothed his hair back and looked around in the scant light provided by his torch. Two earthy halls lead from each side and one straight away from the door. With a grunt he chose the middle.

In the shadows he could hear shuffling and the sounds of dripping water. He held himself ready for anything, sighing in frustration. Ardeth could be anywhere down here—if at all, and calling might draw every creature in the place down on him. Of course the light his torch bleeding into the place wasn't helping him remain anonymous any.

Suddenly Rick froze, seeing movement ahead. He held the torch up and looked down the hall as two shades crept closer and closer, their details obscured by distance. But soon enough they entered the light. Bright gold embroidery glared out against a black backdrop and Rick widened his eyes. "Ardeth?" he breathed, ignoring the form behind him.

They approached and stopped, and his friend squinted in the light. "Rick?" he replied, using his hand to shield himself from the brightness of the fire.

He was alive. Rick had known he was alive, but seeing him brought back so many feelings of the past—the remembrance of the funeral being at the forefront of his emotion. He tossed the torch to the floor and gripped his friend's shirt to make sure he was real. "It's you. It's really you. My God."

Ardeth smiled softly and nodded, and looked about to say something when Rick pulled him into a hug. The Med-Jai flinched back slightly, but returned the gesture whole-heartedly, saying, "It is good to see you, my friend." 

He loosened his grip, but couldn't help but hold his friend. Too many years had passed since he had heard that voice. Way too many years. He looked out into the darkness beyond, grateful for this chance to see him again. It was then Rick saw the horror behind his friend. It watched through cold, dark eyes, its face gaunt and dead looking. It too wore the robes of a Med-Jai. "Who, ah…who's your buddy?" Rick asked, pulling back with concern.

Bay rolled his eyes and turned back, but stopped short. Rick saw what he was looking at. Those robes. It was pitch black down here. Ardeth would have likely never known if Rick's torch was the first light he had seen in a long while. "This is Necromancer," he answered in unnerved tones. "He…he was my guide through here…a…Sajul? Sajul, is that you?"

The deathly creature's lips twisted cruelly in dark amusement. Its breathing was unpleasant sounding to say the least. In otherworldly tones it said, "You look so surprised, Ardeth. I thought I would never see your face again, thought you blessed because you were spared this terrible existence. Tell me, when you visited our people did they welcome you warmly?"

Ardeth's fists tightened, but he seemed too stunned to take any action. "But why did you view my memories if you already knew what had happened?"

Rick looked at the dead Med-Jai before them as it glared Ardeth down. This creature wasn't something hr termed cordial, that was certain. It hissed and rasped in contempt towards its brother-warrior. "Because I have not lived your life through your eyes. I wanted to know your heart, Chosen. I wanted to know why you were spared and not the rest of us."

Looking away at that, Ardeth replied, "I have no answer for that, Sajul."

The creature hissed and brought its arms up, baring sharp teeth. "That is my name no longer, Ardeth Bay! I am not your friend! Hhhrrr. I hate you and the task before me."

"What task is that?" Bay asked in low tones and Rick could see pain in his friend's eyes. It made him want to hit this wretched thing.

Necromancer hissed sharply and wrung his gnarled hands as if he would tear the life out of his once friend. "When you leave this place I must go with you! There are things we all must do before stopping Imhotep. Parts we all must play. I must take you to the Temple of Osiris for the staff."

Rick shook his head, not liking the sound of this or the evil of this thing. Why would a friend feel such passionate hate towards him? "Uh-uh. Why don't you just tell us where this temple is and we'll part here, hmm? I'm sure you won't like the outside. It's wet up there. That's assuming _any_ of us can even get out of this hellhole." He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully and looked around, seeing very little.

The creature wouldn't have anything to do with Rick's suggestion of parting. It ignored him and kept its cool gaze on Ardeth. "If you are to follow through with your destiny, Ardeth, I must join you. I like it no better than you, but it is what I must do if Imhotep is to be stopped. I hate you with everything I am now, but I will do what my destiny calls for. Only when Imhotep is dead will I find rest."

Ardeth considered it and exhaled, looking to Rick for a second and back. "If this is what must be, I will accept your help." He looked his friend in the lifeless eyes that stared back. "Is there anything of Sajul left within you?"

Rick watched Ardeth's small hope of that snuff out when Necromancer shook his head fervently, and sighed, watching emotions play across his features. "I missed you, you know," he said, hoping to draw Ardeth's attention from yet another friend lost. Ardeth turned back with a wan smile. O'Connell touched his arm and found it difficult to let go of his friend. It was hard to believe he was alive after so long of knowing he was gone forever. "Me and Jonathan and Evy, we got together to fight Imhotep when he was raised and it just felt weird, you know? There was this empty slot where you should have been. I just thank God that you're back."

Necromancer grunted and stalked past them towards the entrance. Ardeth watched after him and exhaled softly. "Thank you, my friend. I think the love of you three is all I have left."

A week into the world and Rick could already see the taint of this place all over his friend's stance. He gave Ardeth a sympathetic look and asked, "Is it enough?"

He nodded without a beat. "It's enough." He looked Rick over as the present situation came back to mind. "Why are you here? Did Imhotep capture you?"

O'Connell ran a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes. "No, I turned myself in." He smiled at the other's confusion. "I have contacts in here. They thought they saw Imhotep drag 'a man in black' down into the dungeon, so I knew I had to get to you. _I_ sent Evy the book."

The Med-Jai shook his head and gazed towards Necromancer. "I am grateful for the gesture, my friend, but I do not think it wise. You could have gotten killed and despite the necromancer's belief we will get out, it is not guaranteed. You may have come only to die here in the darkness with me."

"Yeah, well, I figured we'd find a way out. It's us, Ardeth. What can stop us?" The momentary doubt in Ardeth's eyes startled Rick, but he made no mention of it.

Bay rubbed at his arm and Rick saw a large cut there. "Perhaps nothing, Rick." He turned back with forced strength—forced, Rick knew, because he wore that expression quite often himself. He could hardly blame his friend. This place was hell. "First thing we must concentrate on is escape. I have only just arrived here at the entrance myself, so I do not know the strength of the door."

From his spot near yet far, Necromancer rasped, "The priest will come. Then you will overtake him in surprise."

Brows knitting, Rick grunted and eyed the creature. "You aren't much for reality, are you? Have you ever even _seen_ Imhotep?"

The laugh that came was unsettling and irritating. A bony finger stretched towards Ardeth. "He has power over Imhotep in that he can cause the terrible priest harm. Ardeth has passed over to the other side, he is touched by eternity."

"Touched by eternity?" Rick asked, looking back to Ardeth.

Bay nodded his head with almost wistful eyes. Rick wondered what things were locked within the mind of his friend. "Necromancer claims that my having been dead and returned somehow changed me, made the priest's immortality nullified to me. Something to do with his curse, I think."

Rick shrugged. "Okay. We take the bastard by surprise and you kill him."

Necromancer snarled and wrung his thin, pale hands, startling Rick into the defensive. "Oooh, were it that simple, whelp! He may cause the priest harm, but that does nothing to change Imhotep's healing powers! Ardeth could run him through with a scimitar and he would heal himself before death took him. We must have the Staff of Osiris and the Book of Amun Ra."

At that Rick shook his head and sighed, knowing their's promised to be a long, difficult path. "Book of Ra, huh? Well, that's just perfect. No one knows where Imhotep stuck it."

The dead thing smiled hideously, making him highly regret the torch. Not that the thought of this thing being near him in the dark was any better. "_I_ know, whelp. I know a great many things."

"Oooh, doesn't that make _you_ special?" O'Connell retorted and Ardeth shook his head in forestalling. He gave in. "Okay, so we escape this dungeon, butcher our way through three dozen jackals, grab the Carnahans and run like hell before Immy realizes his thong's in a knot. Easily done, right?"

A familiar smile spread across Ardeth's lips as he nodded and crossed his arms. "You have a remarkable talent for stating impossible odds in a tone that suggests they do not matter, my friend."

Rick shrugged once and gave his friend a lopsided grin. "Hey, what were the odds Evy would wake you up? We'll make it."

"We'll make it," Ardeth repeated with a glint in his dark eyes. Things were definitely looking up despite the fact they were stuck in a dark, death-filled and tomblike dungeon from which there was little hope of escape. The Med-Jai groaned and looked at the side he had been favoring since Rick met up with him.

Rick peered down, trying to see what was wrong. "You okay?"

"Yes," Bay breathed, opening the rip in his robe to show him a long, purple cut. "It isn't very deep, but aches from the cold and from standing. It should heal soon." He slid down the wall to sit and motioned Rick down and he followed. "Enough of that. We must plan."

Rick nodded, fighting back annoyance when Necromancer sat across from him. He wasn't going to get much sleep with that thing's gaze on him. It seemed to burn towards he and Ardeth unlike Imhotep's hate. He seemed more dangerous in a way. Imhotep was a cat that played with the mice before pouncing. This thing wouldn't bother to play. Rick frowned at him and turned his eyes back to his friend, saying, "Right. Let's get talking about kicking Imhotep's butt, shall we? Nothing cheerier."

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and a few, less significant originals belong to me.

**A/N**: Last update until after Christmas! :-O Enjoy! I saw Two Towers Saturday and wow. Awesome movie!!! Beautiful music…everything was too good. See it asap!!! :-D

**To Reviewers**:

**Elven Sapphire** – Hehe! Thanks for your compliments! Glad you're still reading. :-) Orlando is a hottie. I love how he grins. ;-) And well, while Elijah is less my type, I'll agree that he's a cutie. But after seeing Two Towers, I must say I've fallen for Viggo Mortensen. ;-D Mmmm. Aragorn. Must have Aragorn.

**Lula** – Hehehe! You've been hacking into my system and reading ahead, haven't you? ;-) Wow…you just touched on some points that actually were made right in this chapter. Now you know what befell Sajul and you even hinted at a few things, including my plans to reveal the rest of that dream! Lol. Yeah, though. Locky's a butt. :-P I'm glad you're enjoying my Jonathan as well…I have some plans for him in the futurish area soon. Lol. So Jonny fans, look forward to some stuff throughout, and Ricky stuff including some luuurve maybe. :-D Thanks a bunch, my friend!!

**Hadassaknamu** – Hey! Glad to have you back! I was beginning to wonder if I'd scared you off with how I ended Passion…sometimes authors get killed for that sort of thing. Lol. ;-) Thanks for reviewing and I'm pleased you still like! Merry Christmas!

**Mommints** – Inspiration for battle? See Two Towers, of course! ;-D Most excellent movie…nice battles and good characters. *sniff* I can't believe what happened. Poor ------! ;-) I won't say, so as not to give away, but I thought it unnecessary and well, just sad. Doh! Hmmm…can't wait to see your Locky! He's such a hateable character I think. I just wowna kick him! Thanks for the review!

**Marcher** – Imhotep is up to his old manipulative tricks and doesn't he do it so well? ;-) lol. Thanks for your compliments, my friend! Daylight is sloooowly approaching…hehehe. Chapter after next! ;-)

**Marxie** – Well, I have this habit of taking certain names and adding a Y sound at the end, such as Locky, Ricky and Jonny…though I refuse to call Ardeth Ardy. Lol. Sometimes it fits, sometimes it doesn't with different names. Marxie works, no? :-D Thanks for the compliments, anyway. :-D I try to be as open about the plot as I can, which means lotsa talking! ;-) But some action's around the corner…there was a teensy bit here too, I spose. And yeah…Evy will betray Ardeth. Muahahaha. ;-)****


	10. What You Believe

**Speak Softly**  
What You Believe

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evy sat by the large pool inside Imhotep's granite bathhouse. Being his personal slave did have its advantages, including access to his rooms, which had only the finest in furnishings and conveniences, lavish and warm in contrast to the cold halls. The lush, imported plants against the dark pillars and walls gave one the impression they were sitting within an Aztec temple where any moment a snake could slither its way off of a branch to make its way to the central pool. On any other day that snake would be Imhotep, Evy imagined.

But right now the pharaoh was conducting business, or so she had been told, and whenever he was so occupied she and Jonathan weren't allowed anywhere near. Sometimes she wondered what secrets the priest kept. Of course he would never tell her.

Jonathan lounged nearby on his stomach, his fingers touching the perfect crystal waters within the pool. He really wasn't supposed to be in here, but right now neither he nor Evy cared. She needed to talk to him and Imhotep could live with it. "Jonathan," she breathed, dipping her toes into the water. She felt a nervous anticipation wash through her. She wasn't sure she would want to hear the answer to her question.

"Hmm?" he replied at her pause, glancing up thoughtfully. "What's on your mind?"

Evy sighed and dropped both feet into the warm water. "I just wondered if you looked for Ardeth." Her dark eyes washed him over.

Jonathan also sighed, looking every bit like he wasn't looking forward to answering as he sat up. That gesture told Evy the news would be bad, that he had to get comfortable to say it. It made her heart pang. "Sorry, old mum. I checked with everyone. No one saw anything, or if they did they aren't willing to tell me."

Biting her lip and nodding, Evy scratched her arm and said, "Oh. Well, no word is better than a bad one, right? Maybe he got away or…who am I kidding?" She stared at the water.

Her brother watched her a little curiously and she wanted to push him into the water for it. Right now Evelyn felt a little anxious over everything. Imhotep's eyes always gazed at her with that question standing in them. "You really care for Ardeth, don't you?" Jonathan asked quietly.

She looked up with furrowed brows. "Of course I do, Jonathan. He _was_ our friend, you know."

"Well, yeah," her brother conceded with a nod. "And I'm worried about him too, mark me on that. But I just thought…"

Evy frowned at him. "You thought what, exactly?"

Jonathan held up his hands and shrugged, saying, "No reason to get angry, old mum. It's nothing at all. You're just a bit tense and not that you don't have a reason to be, but I just wanted to make sure you were all right, you know?"

Her expression softened as she looked back into the shimmering pool. Evy kicked her legs lightly in the warmth. "Thanks, Jonathan. I guess these past few days have been hard, that's all. Imhotep…he wants me to marry him." She looked up.

But Jonathan didn't look as surprised as she thought he would. Instead those blue eyes of his were knowing and sympathetic. "Yeah, he mentioned that," he told her. "What are you going to do?"

That nervousness in her stomach that never seemed to leave now intensified as she asked herself that very question. The truth was she didn't know. She didn't want to marry Imhotep and her immediate answer was 'no', but what if life never got any better than that? Years ago she would never have questioned herself. The answer would never be to agree to such a thing, but after seeing everything she had in the past two years she wasn't sure how to make choices without doubt anymore. Such was life with Imhotep. Everything was a gamble on his mercy. 

"I don't know, Jonathan." That ache for the loss of Ardeth returned like a wound reopening. "I mean you were right about Ardeth. We sort of did bond in the desert and…and he kissed me and…one thing led to another and we…well, think of the queen's sort of irrelevant since…and now he's gone and I keep hoping that it's not true because I don't even know what I want from him, but what if things get really bad if I deny Imhotep? He could get very nasty in the near future, but how could he ask this of me right now? Good lord, I'm babbling." She sniffled and fought back the tears that formed in her eyes. "What do you think I should do?"

Jonathan scooted close to her and bumped her with his side. "I wish I was wise enough to tell you. Imhotep wanted me to talk to you, to talk you into marrying him because 'it's what would be best', but I just don't know and we don't even know if Ardeth's really dead. It looks bad, baby sis, I hate to say it, but that doesn't mean things will end up bad. The question is if Ardeth were really gone, do you think you would have a better life as Imhotep's wife or his slave? I don't mean to play devil's advocate, but I just don't know for sure."

Crossing her arms, Evy kicked the water angrily and looked at the stained glass lighting above them. It's large, decorative patterns gazed back in shades of teal, coral and orange, both pretty and bold. Just like Imhotep. "So, you think I should then? That's what it sounds like you're saying."

He took her hands and bent down to look into her downcast eyes. "I'm saying, Evy, make this choice for the good of your well being and state of mind. Heaven knows my pride tells me to forbid you against it, but I'm trying to think about what's better for you in the long run. Trust me, the alternative to turning him down makes me angry for you and I don't want to see you marry him at all, but I just don't want anything worse happening to my little sister."

"Yeah," Evy breathed through a thick voice. She wiped stray tears away. "I know. I'm just afraid of making the wrong choice. If I say no then Imhotep could do terrible things to not only me, but also you. But if I say yes and Ardeth is alive, what then?"

Jonathan sighed and looked into the pool, picking at the sleeves of his blue shirt. She could see his mind at war with logic just the same as hers. Sometimes it would strike her, just how much she wished her brother was gone from here and drinking in some pub in London or chasing some married girl with money. "You think he loves you?" he asked gently, returning his gaze to hers.

She shook her head. That was the big question on her mind. Did Ardeth have feelings for her, or was what happened just a fluke? She wasn't even sure of herself, but she would have liked to have at least found out. She was growing to like her stray fantasies. "I just don't know. It was so fast we didn't even think it through. He was hurting and I was hurting for him."

Her brother nodded slowly and bumped her side again. "Don't you go turning out like me, Sis, chasing skirts and…or robes, rather. You deserve better than that." She laughed at that and bumped him back. "If you marry Imhotep and Ardeth is alive, I think you should remember to ask yourself if it would matter to him. I think it might bug him at first—it would any man, but I think he's the type that would understand your choices. And marrying Imhotep won't be like saying Ardeth is gone."

Grinning, Evy elbowed Jonathan and sniffled again. "You're really trying to marry me off, aren't you?"

"No," he replied with a sorrowful smile as he looked her over, "But I don't want to see you suffer anymore. I know Imhotep's an evil sort who takes what he wants and would dominate a mouse if it crossed his throne room, but if we can appease him just long enough to…well just long enough, then maybe it would be worth the small peace it might bring. I hate seeing you dressed like that, sitting on the floor beside his throne like some pet. He's prideful and if you were his queen I think he might be proud enough to actually treat you like one for risk of looking like a tyrant."

She smirked at that and looked sideways at her brother. "Imhotep looking like a tyrant. Imagine that." Evy unconsciously pulled at her skirt, trying to cover her thighs a little better. "I know what you mean though. In his own insane way he tries to be a good king. God help us if he truly didn't care for his image."

Jonathan grunted and watched the waters move. She saw it in his eyes, that glint of mischief, but reacted too late. With a grin her brother grabbed her and hurled her into the pool, laughing as she splashed. Coming up sputtering, Evy glared her brother down, but couldn't help breaking into laughter with him. She gave him just long enough to believe he was safe, then with a triumphant little grin took a hold of his leg and yanked him into the water.

Together brother and sister laughed and played in the pool, both oblivious to their watcher until by chance Evy looked up. Imhotep's form lounging on a chair nearby startled her. His arms were crossed and his eyes glinted humorously. Instantly she was out of the water, squeezing her skirt out. "I'm sorry, Imhotep. I wanted to talk so I brought him in here. I didn't think you'd…" she trailed off.

The priest cocked his head. "You did not think I would return so soon." His hand waved imperiously. "Have your fun, Nefertiri. He can do no harm to my rooms." She noticed his eyes travel over her body and the thought of playing in front of him wasn't too enticing.

"Actually," Jonathan said into the quiet as he walked up the stairs in the water and exited the pool. He gave his shirt a squeeze and Evy winced as water hit the marble tiles. "I'm feeling a bit peckish at the moment, so I thought I'd go have a bite to eat. Care to join me, Evy?"

Imhotep shook his head. "I wish to speak with her."

Evy looked at her brother, noticing his reluctance to leave. She nodded towards the door. Jonathan sighed and headed towards it. "Yes, well, goodnight then. If you want to talk later, Evy, I'll be in my room."

"Okay," she told him, seeing him out. She didn't want to turn back around, but the priest wouldn't wait forever. She could almost feel his eyes and turning gave her the confirmation. He watched her thoughtfully. Remembering herself, Evy wiped underneath her eyes in case her makeup had run. "I didn't mean to disobey you, Imhotep. I was just lonely."

He regarded her through eyes that seemed weary of her misunderstanding. "Your fear is groundless, Nefertiri. In our time together have I ever punished you for so petty a reason? I know I have not been all I should, but I _do_ wish to repair that."

Evy rolled her eyes and tried to pull her skirt a little more tightly around her bare legs. "Right. And the moment I do something to displease you, all hell will break loose. I'm not going to fall into that false sense of freedom you're offering. Please at least be honest with me, thank you."

The king's eyes glittered as he crossed his arms again and leaned back against his chair. "Do I raise my hand at your smart tongue?"

"Sometimes," she answered ironically, looking around for a towel. He smirked and removed his robe, tossing it to her. With a dirty look she draped it around herself and sat on another lounge chair.

He conceded and nodded his head. His fingers curled around the arms of his chair as he watched the water of his pool solemnly. Evy looked down, hating this side of him. It was easy to hate him when he hit her, but that small spark of regret, of humanity, shook her to her very soul. Compassion was a very inconvenient thing sometimes. "I do not want to be Seti," he said and she shifted uncomfortably in his robes. "But betrayal must be punished, my princess."

"You betrayed me by murdering Ardeth. What punishment will you face for that?" Evy looked for any sign in his eyes that he might have been lying about that.

There was nothing of the sort. Imhotep's eyes concealed all he would have hidden from her. They reflected too much of what she did not want to know. He shrugged his shoulders again, that expression ever so matter-of-fact as when he was firm in getting his own way and certain his justifications were in fact just. "I am Pharaoh." He no longer said that word with the same contempt he had back in ancient days. Now that he wore the title, she surmised, he had let the power fully consume him until his whims became law, just as Seti had. Two black eyes watched her for a moment in something she couldn't decipher, then the priest motioned her over.

Evy held the robe tightly around her, obeying for fear his fair mood would end abruptly. But Imhotep pulled the robe open and brought her down to sit in his lap, whispering his hand across her legs so gently it made her blush. Ardeth had touched her that way. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked plainly.

"Yes," she replied low, her eyes refusing to meet his.

Imhotep brought her chin up and made her look at him. Then he shrugged and pushed her away, closing his eyes as he again leaned back. "Then I will. It is not so difficult, Nefertiri. I am not a complete monster."

Stepping away from him quickly, Evy rubbed her hand over a burning cheek and muttered to herself, "How could I believe that?" He sighed, catching that with preternatural hearing and a momentary frustration flashed through her. "I'm sorry, but you're asking me to change my knowledge of you and, and for you to expect that overnight is just…well, unrealistic after everything you've done."

The king breathed in as she began for the door. His voice was low and struck her more forcefully than any slap would have. "And what of all you have done? What of my eternal torment as a demon?"

Evy stopped at the door and leaned against it, not turning to face him. She bit her lip and traced the silver patterns, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. "Please, give me time."

He didn't answer and she said no more. Leaving the room then and there, Evy wrapped her arms around herself and walked silently away to wherever her feet would carry her.

~~~~~~~

Rick fidgeted and every now and then stopped to glare at Necromancer. The creature constantly watched them through unblinking eyes that made him uneasy in the dim lighting. The torch was dying down again and soon he would have to speak the spell to keep it lit. Rick hated hearing it speak, but held no desire to sit here in the dark with this monster watching him.

Beside him Ardeth slept. Rick had insisted on taking the first watch simply because this creature made him nervous. He didn't like how it looked at him and more importantly, he didn't like how it looked at Ardeth. Rick felt he were a mere irritation to this thing, but there was a definite hatred present in its glare directed at the Med-Jai. Even now it glared as his friend slept. There was something contemptuous in its expression. "Problem?" Rick asked with a note of unhidden dislike.

Necromancer rasped, with black eyes that seemed to penetrate his very thoughts. Annoyance flickered in those depths, but died out as it gazed back on Ardeth. "Do you see it in his face? Do you see the light?"

Looking down, O'Connell took in his friend's peaceful expression. "I saw that light before he died. He's a good man."

The creature snarled to itself and rubbed its bony hands together in agitation. One day Rick thought Necromancer might just do something about those feelings he kept bottled up. "You cannot see the mark of eternity with your pathetic human eyes, but I see and it makes me hate him all the more."

Rick kicked one foot over the other and leaned back against the cold, concrete wall. "You got a real jealousy problem, don't you? You hate your friend because he was spared. I bet you were a keeper."

Necromancer exhaled a rattling breath and glared darkly. "You cannot understand death or what it brings. You have not been there."

"No, but I see the difference between you and Ardeth." He yawned and sat up a little straighter. "Look, I don't wanna argue about this stuff. You just keep your hands off my friend and I'll keep my hands off you."

The creature said nothing, but continued to watch him intently until Rick kicked harmlessly and told it to stop. Necromancer cocked his head. "So good a man is he, that he would sleep with the woman he knows you have feelings for? I hear his thoughts and your own, Rick O'Connell. I saw them in his mind, writhing in the sand together." His lips curled into a dirty smile. "I could put the memory in your mind for a short time if you would like to see it."

Rick frowned and made an effort to ignore this thing's words and the feelings that came with the 'what ifs' it brought. Necromancer was trying to make him angry with Ardeth. _It's kinda working, too_, he thought with an intake of breath. _No, no it's not._ The dead thing's face looked amused. Rick shook his head. "I haven't been with Evy in a long time, so it really doesn't matter what they did. If they even did anything at all, which I doubt. Why should I believe you, anyway?"

"But it does matter," Necromancer countered, ignoring the question Rick put before him. He wrapped his robes around him and turned dead eyes upon Ardeth. "I know you've thought of her, O'Connell. You've wondered in the darkness of your heart if this crisis could bring you together once again, as did the first time you disturbed the black priest from his rest. Now Ardeth is taking that chance away from you."

The ex-Legionnaire grit his teeth and nodded, trying not to let this work. "Right, well, it isn't as if I've been abstaining since we broke up. So what? It's not my business, okay?"

The undead creature blinked and watched him in that annoyingly amused way it sometimes did. He sighed and closed his eyes, pushing away everything. It was none of his business what may or may not have happened. Not anymore. Of course that didn't mean he couldn't hint around and find out what took place and why, but if they chose not to talk about it he could respect that. But he'd be keeping his eye on them. Rick scratched his chin and smirked, then absently dropped his hand down, knocking Ardeth's shoulder. The Med-Jai stirred and woke up slowly. That restful expression slipped away. Rick smiled pleasantly. "Hey, Ardeth. Good morning or night or whatever the hell it is up there. Sleep good?"

Ardeth sat up and looked around him fuzzily. "I slept well. Do you know how long?"

O'Connell shrugged. "A few hours. Something like that." He yawned and his friend noticed.

"You should have slept some, my friend. If you fear Necromancer I will keep watch, though I doubt he will cause any trouble." The Med-Jai glanced at his former friend, then looked away quickly. "We have no way of knowing when Imhotep will return, if he indeed will, but you should take rest as you can."

Before Rick could answer the creature shuffled to its feet and began towards the darkness. "There is yet time. I must attend to my children, but I will return before the priest comes." O'Connell wondered if he weren't just uncomfortable with being alone with Ardeth. The creature gave him a withering look, then departed.

He pointed down the hall and shook his head, trying to picture that thing as a Med-Jai. What could change a man so drastically? "You know, I really don't like that guy. He was your friend?"

Ardeth brought his knees up and rested his arms on them. Rick was getting tired of seeing his friends wear down into sorrow. Something had to give sooner or later. Things couldn't stay this bad, could they? "He was like a brother," his friend answered. "His people are gone and he may very well have watched them die at Imhotep's hands. We cannot know what he has suffered."

Rick couldn't help but roll his eyes and his friend frowned. "Sorry," he said with a sigh. "You just…you understand everyone. You understand their reasons and it's all okay and well, sometimes it just drives me crazy. Can't you be a little less understanding of what others have done and get really ticked off once in a while?"

His friend watched him with tired eyes. "You think what Imhotep has done has not made me angry, Rick? I don't blame Sajul because I know who he was before all of this. It is Imhotep who has done these things and right now he is the focus of my anger. Is something bothering you?"

Running a hand through his hair, Rick shook his head, and then shrugged. There Ardeth went, understanding again. He wouldn't let on, though. "No, nothing's really bothering me. I am curious about something though."

"And what is that?" Bay asked calmly.

Rick fidgeted. He really didn't know how to bring this up without sounding like an idiot, but he was curious and not very good at forgetting things that bothered him. "What was it like, seeing Evy again?" he decided to say.

Ardeth's expression grew fond and the ex-Legionnaire found himself slightly irritated. "I woke up alone in my tomb, disoriented and shaken. I can't remember every sensation I felt, but I remember everything seemed saturated. Small sounds were deafening, the light at first was blinding. It was the strangest thing I've ever experienced, Rick. And the most frightening. I walked out of the burial grounds and into the maze below, and found Evelyn laying on the sand, unconscious and wounded. Waking up was very lonely, Rick. I knew I was leaving something behind, something important. But seeing her made it not so terrible. I was no longer alone in a world I did not know."

Inhaling deeply, Rick looked at the wall across from them. The last thing he had wanted to hear was some moving story to lessen his jealous feelings. Not that he wanted to be a jerk, but sometimes it just hit the spot. Rick glared down the hall where Necromancer had shuffled off. "Yeah, well, this might not be the happiest place in the universe, but you sure aren't alone." Now his interest was sparked elsewhere and he supposed that was a good thing. "What was Heaven like?"

Midnight eyes shrouded in want and desperate seeking. The Med-Jai furrowed his brow and gave up on whatever he was trying to find within himself. "I do not remember."

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and a few, less significant originals belong to me belong to me.

**A/N**: Just how long can I keep dragging this dungeon stuff out? Not much longer. In fact, they escape next chapter! Or start to…lol. ;-) Anyhow, now that ff.net seems to be working, I can pester you by posting this! Muahahaha. Happy New Year!

**To Reviewers**:

**Me'n'Legolas** – Hey…don't know if you're this far, but since there was no email I can only hope you continued so I can thank you for your review! I'm glad you liked it and ah, hope you don't stop reading all the wonderful stories out there!! :-D

**Mommints** – Hehe..yeas, I'll be letting some of that suspense out next chapter. Muahaha. ;-) I saw TTT again the other day…LOVE that movie. Yeah, Helm's Deep is great inspiration! Not to mention Aragorn. ;-) I hope to see it again with my friend soon…yeeehaw! But yeah, those battle scenes can be rough…I hate writing them! Hehehe. But I spose it ain't too bad when it's done. :-) Anyhow, thanks for dropping by!

**Marcher** – Oh yeah…people are gonna get their share of beatings…but I have some nice softy stuff for them too. ;-) A nice balance. Thanks!

**Deana** – Lotsa trouble! Muahahahaha. Lotsa dangerous trouble, precioussss yessss, we likessss to hurtsss them! But we alsssso likes to make nice little good scenes tooo. Thankie!

**Lula** – That you did! Thanks my friend…I was sa' worried I wouldna git no reviews on accounta Christmas and all! :-) You had lotsa questions this time around…some I can answer now. The dead in Immy's dungeon are general dead, not necessarily only Med-Jai and so forth. Everything else I'm thinking about implying things in later chapters concerning, such as what Immy did to Sajul and so forth. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. Ricky and Sajul aren't gonna be friends forever, I'll put it that way. I got some planssss, preciousss, many tricksie planssss! Muahahaha. Thank you for your compliments!

**Marxie** – Well, as I told Lula above, I may allude to that later, as far as why Sajul wasn't the same, but for the most part it'll have to do with the way he died. Ardeth's death was a natural thing, done before the "master of the dead" had returned, so to speak. :-) Anyway, thanks for the compliments and I'm glad you're reading!****


	11. One O'clock and All's Well

**Speak Softly**  
One O'clock and All's Well

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

There was a light rustling sound in the near hallway that announced Necromancer's return. The torch had burnt out, leaving Ardeth and Rick in the pitch black of the dungeon. Ardeth turned his head and waited for the creature to speak. Necromancer swept past them, his robes brushing them. "The priest will come. We should prepare." It waited.

Ardeth got up from the dirt below and fumbled to offer Rick a helping hand. Taking hold of Necromancer's robe, he gripped O'Connell's shirt and the three of them traveled a short distance to the door, then turned right into another hall. Necromancer stopped not far from the door and hissed, "We will wait here. When Imhotep returns then Ardeth shall attack him."

"Right," Rick said uncertainly. He was near to where Ardeth stood. "Are you sure you can do this, Ardeth? I mean you said you drew blood, but it's still Imhotep."

Necromancer hissed across from them and snapped, "He will do what is needed!"

Taking in a breath, Ardeth scratched his healing arm as Rick huffed, "Okay. Okay. Look, I know you don't care what happens to Ardeth, but I do."

Ardeth shook his head and touched Rick's shoulder. He was touched by his friend's concern, but if Necromancer was correct, he had to take this chance. People out there needed them. Evy needed them. "It is alright, Rick. I will do what I must as our outspoken guide has said. But I ask that you do not wait for me to beat him, my friend. As soon as I attack I want you to try and get out. If I don't make it, then at least you may find escape and save Evy and Jonathan."

His friend sighed at that and didn't answer right away. He knew Rick would have trouble with the idea of leaving him behind to die. Ardeth himself had trouble with that thought. Sometimes that peace called to him again, but he wasn't so sure he was ready to go back. Life after 'life after death' was confusing and lonely, but he knew that there was a reason for his return. He didn't want to fail it. So they waited and the minutes passed slowly.

"How long?" he breathed to the undead being across from he and Rick.

Necromancer's voice sounded intent and hungry for the battle to come as he rasped, "He comes now."

Ardeth knit his brows at this, wondering how this creature could possibly see these things in their future. "How do you know he is coming?"

The creature exhaled in irritation and Ardeth could swear he heard the dry, papery sound of his hands rubbing together. The noise made his fists clench. "I see many things, Ardeth. The dead speak to me, remember? They are my children. All manner of beings hiss knowledge into my ears, things that assist me and some things I care not to hear. The underworld breathes in the death of Imhotep and moves towards that goal."

Ardeth had nothing to add to that. As far as he was concerned he himself waited for that moment. Of course he reminded himself of the dangers of letting roots of bitterness entangle his heart, but the image of his people as they were now made his fists clench. A part of him would greatly enjoy attacking the priest and making him pay. He heard a dark little whisper of laughter from across the hallway and lowered his head.

Suddenly a sound filled the air. The large door ahead of them was being unlocked. Necromancer had been right. A sudden burst of adrenaline rushed through Ardeth's veins as he prepared himself for whatever would happen. The bolted door swung open.

Instinctively the Med-Jai grabbed Imhotep's wrist as it passed the threshold at the end of a torch. The priest tried to jerk away, but Ardeth pounced on him and knocked him to the floor. "Go!" he shouted before devoting all his concentration to Imhotep, who was already growling his anger. In the dim light he saw Rick and Necromancer pass to the stairs.

Caught off guard, Imhotep forgot to take advantage of his acquired abilities. Sudden attacks left little room for strategic planning and instinct took over at first. Imhotep wrenched his wrist free and rolled away. Before he could think a foot slammed into his side as Ardeth began pulling himself up. He groaned and rolled over, trying to block off another kick. "What have you done, Med-Jai?" Imhotep hissed, tossing his torch down and getting to his feet.

Ardeth held his reopened wound and staggered up. "Only what I had to, Priest!" His dark eyes glared at the dark form before him and rationality threatened to leave him to the mercy of this being. In his anger he was tempted to have he and Imhotep's final contest now instead of sometime in the distant future. In this priest's dark face he could see Evy's frightened eyes and Rick's cynical expression. He could see the Field of the Med-Jai and it made him tremble in want for vengeance.

Now was not the time. Those very things that angered him reminded him there was a reason that he needed to survive this encounter, for without doubt he knew he likely would not survive the last. But Imhotep was intent on him now, focused on ending the threat here and now. Ardeth could see it reflected in the cold eyes that glared at him. There was real fear there because Imhotep knew Ardeth could harm him.

Imhotep was the first to make a move. He darted for his Med-Jai enemy and with rough hands gripped his arms. The next thing Ardeth felt was being slammed into a hard wall. He gasped for air, having the wind knocked out of him. Imhotep laughed and pulled him forward to throw him back again, but Ardeth made himself act despite the pain. 

With a force of will Ardeth shoved himself into the priest and they fell to the floor together. Imhotep groaned in the pain caused by Ardeth's action, then shoved the punching Med-Jai off him. Ardeth's back hit the dirt as the mummy stood up once more, making ready some spell to end this madness. There was little time left for escape. He had to think quickly. A flicker of shadow mixed with orange light gave him an idea. Moving as quickly as he could, Ardeth flung his arm out and grabbed Imhotep's all but forgotten torch. The priest's chanting paused.

Ardeth sat up and tossed the torch into his enemy and watched as Imhotep's long black robe caught on fire. It was an attack performed by Ardeth's hand and despite his doubts as to whether or not this whole attack would work, it did. Imhotep screamed and thrashed as his flesh burned, the flames rising higher and higher despite his frantic attempts to bat the fire out. Ardeth stood up and backed away towards the door until finally he could watch no longer. Imhotep fell to the ground as he turned and raced up the dark stairs.

~~~~~~~

The first thing that occurred to Rick when he and the beast hit the top of the stairs was the fact that they had absolutely no weapons. This wasn't exactly a good thing, seeing as two jackals were stationed not ten feet away and now bearing down on them. "Uh, got any bright ideas?" he asked his unwanted companion. It should be Ardeth by his side, not this thing!

Necromancer pushed past O'Connell and extended deathly thin arms. His voice came out dry and sharp as he uttered words in what Rick presumed was ancient Egyptian. With a loud screech the jackals shuddered and turned to dust. The necromancer passed them and began down the hallway without paying his companion any attention. Rick swore and followed. "Why didn't you do that to Imhotep?"

"Because Imhotep is the Master of the Dead, you great fool," it replied hastily. It stopped as another group of jackals headed for them. Again those guttural words passed from his lips, rendering their foes to dust. This was definitely going to be easier than Rick had initially thought.

A little too easy if he had anything to say about it. A man in the cage beside where Rick stood begged for release, but the ex-Legionnaire shook his head, saying, "Sorry, pal. I think you might be safer in there." He glanced back towards the stairway that led to Imhotep and Ardeth.

Necromancer bent to the ground to get something and when he straightened Rick had the blunt end of a scythe shoved into his hands. The creature drew its hands away in distaste at Rick's, then hissed, "You must fight the living guards. I cannot end the life of a living being through magical means. Imhotep will have prepared for this."

"Right," Rick replied dryly, allowing for another glance. He wondered where Ardeth was, how he was doing against Imhotep. The priest wasn't angrily stalking towards them right now, so Rick took that as a good sign. At least he hoped it was a good sign. Reluctantly, he followed the creature in front of him.

It didn't take long for Necromancer's warning that Imhotep may have planned for undead magical attacks to come true. Rick could see three humans enter the prison, all three brandishing guns. He swore again. "Perfect. Guns against my scythe. I didn't think Imhotep would have thought of arming his men with modern weaponry."

The dead Med-Jai snorted and shoved Rick down a side hall leading to more cells. "Imhotep is no fool, at least not completely. He knows better than to take for granted this time's advantages."

O'Connell drew back into the shadows and rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, well, what I wouldn't give for a Panzer right now. I don't suppose you could whip one up for me?" The creature gave no reply. Rick grunted, muttering, "Figures."

"Rick?" they heard suddenly and the ex-Legionnaire exhaled. It was Ardeth. His name was whispered again, followed by a sudden burst of voices from further away. The guards had spotted him.

Rick left Necromancer behind, not caring whether or not the thing was any help. Right now he knew he had to get out there. Shots rang out and Rick picked up the pace. He looked down the hall from where he had just come, seeing his friend dodge enemy fire. The other side showed him that the guards were getting close. Ardeth was closer. Rick darted after the Med-Jai and yanked him into another side corridor. "Good, you're alive," he breathed, looking for any other route towards the front. There weren't any.

Ardeth backed up against the dead end they had trapped themselves into and nodded his head. "Perhaps for not very much longer, my friend. I don't suppose you were able to hide any weapons from Imhotep before being brought down here."

"No," Rick replied tensely. The footfalls were getting louder.

Suddenly there were gasps echoing into the halls. A shuffling sound announced Necromancer had come out of hiding and Rick and Ardeth listened as he began to speak. "Drop your weapons," he rasped in a tone that made Rick chill. "I am the bringer of death and destruction. Look upon my face and see _your_ death, for it will meet you swiftly if you fail to obey my command."

There were mutters of indecision. Rick knitted his brows and looked to Ardeth for an answer, but got only a shrug in return. Suddenly a strange throbbing sound seemed to fill the air and the guard's voices grew alarmed. Metal hit concrete and their feet fled the area. Rick and Ardeth came out of hiding, seeing their ghostly companion standing triumphantly above three guns. "I thought you couldn't use magic on them," Rick said sarcastically as he picked the weapons up and gave one to Ardeth. He offered the other to Necromancer, who declined.

The creature turned and began down the hall, answering tersely, "They did not know that."

Rick shook his head and followed with Ardeth. "Okay, next stop is getting the Carnahans, which should be fun since neither of us have any idea where they are. I don't suppose you do, huh pal?"

Necromancer gave him a withering look as another group of jackals and humans entered the prison and came towards them. He spoke the words that killed the creatures, leaving Ardeth and Rick to take care of the living. They pointed and fired and ducked down another side hall. Rick adjusted his Colt and leaned against the wall, waiting. Ardeth backed against the wall across from him and leaned out. A round of shots rang out and the Med-Jai withdrew back with an exhale.

Steeling himself, Rick held his gun out and turned into the intersection, firing at the human guards. Two dropped to the ground and two others ducked away. Rick pulled himself back out of harm's way and blinked. Necromancer merely stood in the shadows with a hard stare at his living companions. Ardeth leaned into the hallway and fired. Rick heard another guard drop and groan out in pain. "Get their guns on the way out," Ardeth breathed as he stepped back. They waited.

Rick nodded and turned back into the hall, immediately dropping his gun and raising his hands as a guard rushed at him from sneaking towards them. The guard ignored the fact he dropped his arms and pointed his gun. Ardeth shot him before anything more could happen and Rick reclaimed his weapons and his enemy's. He gave the fourth gun to Ardeth.

They came to where the other three guards lay on the floor and Rick pulled Ardeth back just in time to avoid getting shot by the one still living. His friend nodded his thanks and peeked around the corner, shooting the guard's arm. Ardeth took the scattered weapons and the three of them headed on towards the exit. Rick scratched his arm and peered at the wooden exit, then motioned Necromancer on. "I assume you're the only one of us that can't die?"

Necromancer didn't dignify that with an answer and opened the already ajar door. The snarls of jackals could be heard and the undead Med-Jai began his chanting once more. The hiss of their destruction and the quiet that followed made Rick deem it as safe as it was going to get. Necromancer entered the outer hall first, then Ardeth followed, keeping an eye on their behind. Rick emerged and watched the front.

Quite suddenly a guard rounded a corner ahead, alone and seemingly unaware of the breakout happening. His eyes widened and he turned to run, but Rick was on him before he could escape. He slammed the young man into the wall and pressed a gun to his cheek. "Where's Evy and Jonathan?"

Very startled at having Rick's gun barrel shoved into his face and Ardeth's glare coming from over the American's shoulder, the young man pointed down a softly decorated hall and stammered, "J-Jonathan Carnahan? He…he has rooms down there! Lady Nefertiri is probably upstairs, two flights up in either her or Pharaoh's rooms."

Rick smiled and patted the guard's cheek, muttering, "Thanks. Now if you knew what was good for you you'd get out of this line of work. You're not very good at it. Stairs?"

"Down there!" the kid answered with a nod in the right direction, squirming from Rick's hold.

Letting go, Rick muttered, "Thanks," before knocking the boy out. He headed towards the stairs, but Necromancer was intent on heading towards Jonathan. "Uh, no. We're gonna go get Evy first," Rick told him firmly.

Necromancer shook his head and began down the hall, ignoring Rick's tone. "The brother is closer. I will not retrace my steps for him if we get the concubine first." Rick fought back irritation at him referring to Evy that way. Ardeth seemed bothered as well and reluctant to follow his old friend. Necromancer whirled around and pointed at Rick, hissing, "You go and find her! Ardeth and I will go after the brother."

Rick exchanged glances with Ardeth, who glanced down the hall as if he wanted to go that way. The ex-Legionnaire didn't offer to let him go in his place. His friend didn't try to disagree either, and finally nodded. "Save her. I will save Jonathan," he said as he headed with the necromancer.

O'Connell exhaled and ran for the stairs.

~~~~~~~

Imhotep pulled himself from the ashes and rose up from the floor. Turning his hands around, he took in the sight of his blistered skin. It infuriated him. His chain link loincloth was now dirty with soot and just barely keeping together. So, his enemies had attacked him in his blindness with the help of that infernal creature!

The High Priest of Osiris growled low in his throat and headed up the dark stairs quickly. The most important thing right now was to reach Nefertiri. They would try to rescue her, he knew. He could not allow that to happen.

Nor could he allow his princess to see him this way. She would wonder how he could be harmed and the knowledge of Ardeth's life would be revealed. That could not be allowed. With concentration the dark priest willed healing into his body as he stormed into the lighted prison above. A few prisoners gasped at the sight of him from their lonely cells. His skin tingled as the rawness disappeared and blood dried up.

The evidence of fighting announced blatantly that his foes had succeeded in passing the prison. They were now free in his palace, roaming around, doing only the gods knew what. He tightened his pained fists and glared at the guards on the floor as he passed. Their fates did not befit them. They had escaped his wrath.

Imhotep ripped his tattered robe off and tossed it to the floor. By the time he reached the prison exit his healing was complete; his body whole and skin flawless. He stalked out and ignored anything and everything that might be out here. The Med-Jai could harm him, yes, but could not kill him. Imhotep still could use his healing powers to retain life. That was encouraging.

One flight up, he stopped and listened with his immortal hearing to a sound at the very surface of his hearing. Nefertiri was being called for by the voice of his fair-skinned foe. The priest picked up his pace with murderous intent. When he came to the second floor his enemy was nowhere to be seen.

~~~~~~~

Jonathan rubbed his hands together and leaned against the windowsill in his room. He spread his arms helplessly. "How are we supposed to get them out? There's bloody guards galore, not to mention those Anubis types. You say Ahamad's got a car waiting in the hills? How'd he manage that with the watch?"

Nashean paced the floor with his arms behind his back. "Ahamad can remain unseen if he wishes. Mayadeh is disguised as a serving girl in the kitchens. She can get the four of you out, but you are correct. The problem will be in liberating O'Connell and Bay and then acting quickly enough to escape. A surprise prison break in the night is our best shot."

Nodding thoughtfully, Jonathan bit his bottom lip and looked at his contact with the outside. This man was usually very quiet and to the point, offering only what was needed. "Yeah," he breathed, scratching the back of his neck. "That and getting Evy away from Imhotep long enough. When do we act?"

"That I will have to get back to you on," Nashean answered with a frown. He opened his mouth to say more but they were cut off by the sound of struggling outside.

Jonathan pulled himself from the sill and pointed to a coat closet. "Hide there," he suggested, knowing how important keeping a contact in Imhotep's palace was. He straightened his jacket as Nashean hid. Suddenly the sounds stopped and there was a long pause. He waited, hoping whoever it was would just go away. Imhotep's jackals were known for their rough attitude towards humans and sometimes that blood thirst got out of hand.

Unfortunately the silence wasn't followed by blissful peace, but by the sound of a doorknob being turned. His doorknob. "Uh..oooh," Jonathan murmured, looking around the room for anything to use as a weapon. He ran his hands through his hair and spotted a bottle of scotch. Shrugging because it was better than nothing, he grabbed it and took a swig. The unlocked door opened and he made ready to throw the bottle, shouting, "Come in and I'll have you!"

He came quite close to actually tossing the bottle, which he soon realized he would have regretted much. When the door flung open a dark figure rushed in, dragging one of the king's human guards with him. The long, black hair betrayed to Jonathan who it must be, but even if his eyes could accept it, his mind was having a little trouble. Suddenly he was taken back to another time where the troubles were still nipping at their heels, but there had been hope of escape. "Ardeth?" he said as the Med-Jai dragged his captive to a chair and slammed him into it. Another figure entered the room that made Jonathan stop his questions. "Whoa," was all he could say at the sight of this gaunt creature.

"I need a rope or something to tie him," Ardeth managed as he struggled, interrupting Jonathan's revulsion.

Carnahan snapped back into the here and now and went for the drapes, ripping off the thick, rope tieback. He brought it to his friend and handed it over. "Here." It was different. Jonathan had thought he wouldn't be too shocked at seeing Ardeth again—after all he did know he was back, but knowing hadn't prepared him.

Ardeth tied the guard to the chair and stood straight, looking his friend in the face for the first time since 1929. It was as if nothing had changed. "Good to see you," Jonathan told him with a smile. For the first time in a while he wondered what might happen if they actually made it out of this mess.

The Med-Jai returned his smile, then looked around the room. "We must hurry. Do you have any weapons?"

Jonathan shook his head and took a gun that Ardeth pulled from his belt. "Imhotep won't let me near guns since I shot one of his dogs in the foot."

Ardeth cocked his eyebrow in amusement and nodded towards the exit. "Then we must leave here and find Rick and Evelyn." After Jonathan grabbed his scotch bottle they began towards the door. Ardeth stepped into the hall and scouted around, then returned his eyes to his friend. "You shot a dog?"

With a roll of his eyes as they began down the long hallway, Jonathan nodded and kept an eye out for guards. He could hear that strange being in black robes shuffling behind him and felt uneasy. "It was an accident. I was cleaning his Royal Majesty's rifle—he likes his weapons big, probably to compensate for something else that isn't, and I forgot to put the safety on. Next thing I knew the thing went off and Kenamun was howling." They turned left at a four-way hall. "I very nearly died that night. Ah, Ardeth, who is this rather unsettling fellow following you?"

The Med-Jai stopped at another hall and looked back. "He is a guide. You have no need to fear him right now. Where is Evelyn's room?"

"Upstairs," Jonathan replied with an unconscious look upwards. "If you'll follow me I'll take you to a shortcut. It's a little bit away, but the fastest once we get up. I don't suppose you have Rick with you?"

Ardeth shook his head and peeked around the corner. He turned back. "All clear. Rick is looking for Evelyn upstairs."

That set off an alarm in Jonathan's mind. "_Alone_? With Imhotep creeping around? Has he lost his bloody mind?" He looked at the other two, then lead them down the hallway towards a set of stairs that opened up two flights up right outside Evy's rooms.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Abul, Sajul and Necromancer belong to me.

**A/N**:

**To Reviewers**:

**Lula** – Silly! Don't apologize for "late" reviews…reviews are never late, I'm glad to get them whenever. :-D Just so long as I'm doing well enough to merit them, ya know? Sorry to hear things are going iffy…prayers are with you, my friend! :-) Anyhow, I know I'm making Imhotep a real jerk in this one…it's very rough and as I'm sure you can see there's some evidence of me lightening him up…lol. I'm trying not to make him too good, but *sigh*. I think that's where Necromancer comes in…lol. I find it easier to vent my darker inclinations through him. Hehehe. Not to say I'll make Immy a cream puff, but ya know. Thankie! ;-)

**Mommints** – Did I hear rumor from a friend you updated **Heroes**????? :-O I must go read after I upload this. As for the title, well it didn't directly come from Indiana as much as me wondering what the heck to call it and basing it on what Evy believes is best for her and if Ricky believes Neccy. But I've been keeping Indiana on in the background, so perhaps it filtered through the vibes…lol. ;-D Thanks! Oh and, got battles scenes a brewin', eh? Woohoo! Can't wait to see! LOTR is such an inspiration, ya?

**Wildcardgal** – Heeey, nice to see a new face. :-D I'm happy you like it and I thank you for your compliments!!! :-D

**Marx** – Hey, great chapter of **Hereafter** last time I looked! Excellent work! As a Jonny fan I thought you might like the interaction between bro and sis. :-) I'm giving him more to do in this fic than before and I'm really glad cause I enjoy Jonathan. :-D As for Ricky's jealousy, well I've made him brush it off in my other fics I thought it was time he got a little irked about Evy being with someone else. ;-D Thanks, my friend! Look forward to more of your story!

**Marchy** ;-) – Sorry, had to call you that after your mentioning it. Hehehehe. Yeah, poor Evy's got some choices to make. Bleh. Rough situation to be in, eh? I wouldn't wanna be…well, that's a lie cause God knows I WOULD want to be at the 'mercy' of Imhotep. ;-D And yeah Rick did it on purpose. ;-) Muahahaha. Poor Ricky. I'm glad you liked his jealousy! Thanks!

**Deana** – Hey, thanks! Hehe…yeah, it would be awful, having our friend act that way with so much hate. Poor guy. Anyhow, so much to read, so little time…I'm off to read your Presidio story, as well as the one belonging to Mommints and I think there's more of Marcher's **Captain** up as well. Hmmm.****


	12. Classic Escape No 32

**Speak Softly**  
Classic Escape #32

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evelyn sat alone in Imhotep's rooms because she had been told to stay put while he left to think. She frowned at the large golden door. They had just finished having a minor tiff and she was feeling quite peevish at the moment. Well, if he wanted to make a fool out of himself in front of the Americans, what business of it was hers? What really bugged her though, was the pretense Imhotep made of actually wanting her advice. She went through all the trouble of explaining her thoughts about certain situations and what did he do? He questioned every little thing and then had the audacity to say he understood, but he was going to 'pursue other means' and then, _then_ when she got frustrated he would give her that positively _stupid_ grin and finally agree with her.

Well today she had spoken to him about his habits—quite firmly, and he left so she could cool off. Now she sat on his large bed painting her toenails. She honestly didn't care if she spilled it on his linens either. Let him get mad.

Evy stuck her foot out to admire her drying red toenails. Imhotep liked red. She scowled and looked around for a bottle of pink.

She sighed and settled down to begin the other foot and just as she did the bedroom door opened quickly, startling her. She dropped the little bottle and polish spilled onto her foot and all over the floor when it burst. It looked like blood. Evy looked up to see Imhotep enter and close the door behind him. She stood up with a miffed expression and waved a finger at him. "I'm not over it, if that's what you think!"

The priest came close and took her hands in his. "You do not have to be over it, Princess. I am not here to regain your good graces." He turned his head from side to side as if he were listening and looked back. "We are under attack, Nefertiri. I am here to insure your safety."

Her brow narrowed at that as she wondered who would be attacking. True, every few months an attack would come, but he seemed a little on edge to her. There were several factions against him that could have grown enough to launch an assault on the palace and she happened to be termed one of his weaknesses. As such she was in danger.

Imhotep must have picked up on her slight nervousness. It was silly because she was totally safe with him—at least safe from others, but she couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. He touched her hair and brushed his hand against her forehead. "Worry not. I will let no harm come to you."

She looked at him oddly, but that faded as he began chanting softly with a stern expression. Quite suddenly her body felt heavy and her mind drifted off. She was starting to feel too tired to stand. The king picked her up, making her want to struggle, but by the time she hit the bed she was out.

~~~~~~~

"Well, crap," Rick muttered, slipping past another guard. He had taken to ducking into open rooms and dark halls when he heard footsteps. Sneaking around with absolutely no idea where Evy could be was less than productive. This place was just too big in his opinion.

The halls seemed to go on forever and while richly decorated, were lifeless and silent. He grumbled to himself and tiptoed towards an intersection. Peeking around the corner revealed another hall that looked just the same as any other. He grunted and took it, worried he would never find Ardeth again even if he did manage to find Evy.

But he soon found out he was actually onto something this time. He could hear the hideous voices of two jackals conversing—if that's what you could call it. That was at least somewhat different. Most of the guards were human. Perhaps the jackals guarded Evy. He came to another hallway and peered around. They stood guard on either side of a very big door. The biggest he'd seen and gold instead of silver. "Bingo," he murmured, then puzzled through how he was going to go about actually getting into those rooms without drawing much attention.

Rick looked around and spotted a table standing unassumingly against the wall between two rooms. Shrugging he went for it and broke a leg off. It was better than his small bullets that didn't have a hope of taking the head off one of those things. Giving his makeshift bat a test swing, he nodded in satisfaction and strolled calmly into the hallway. "Hey!" he called, startling the creatures. He motioned them forward and ran away.

He could hear their feet scraping against the floor in pursuit and when he reached a place he deemed far enough away to avoid drawing too much attention, he stopped and turned around. One of the jackals howled when his bat swung towards its head. Rick didn't even watch it hiss out of existence before attacking the other one.

But this one had learned and ducked right away, then slashed at the ex-Legionnaire with its scimitar. Rick dodged and swung out again, this time hitting his target. The jackal's face was chagrined as it turned into dust. Rick shrugged and tossed the table leg down, then pulled out his gun.

He hadn't left the ornate door too far behind. When he returned the hall was empty as he expected it, but he still felt nervous. He could only hope she wasn't being guarded from the inside. Rick swallowed his fear and grabbed the handle. The door was unlocked. He opened it and entered the apartment, calling her name.

Rushing into the bedroom, O'Connell skidded to a halt with wide eyes, seeing exactly what he hadn't expected to see. He hadn't gotten the chance to ask Ardeth exactly what had happened to Imhotep, but obviously it hadn't put too much of a damper on the priest's movement. He was sitting calmly in a chair facing the door, his hands folded together and eyes glistening darkly.

Suddenly those hands dropped to the arms of his chair and he braced to stand up. "Oooh boy," Rick muttered, backing towards the door with an ironic smile. A figure on the bed caught his attention and he stopped. Evy lay there, unconscious with a bloody foot. "Oh yeah, abusing her a little 'cause we escaped?" he hissed, holding his gun up as if it would do anything to the priest.

About thirty seconds later Rick found himself back in the main room, having been hit with a blast of pure will or energy or whatever the mummy was packing. Shots rang out towards Imhotep as he fired, half out of it from the hit to his head. Imhotep stormed into the room and slammed his fist across Rick's cheek. He fell to the floor and received a courtesy kick.

He didn't like where his mind was going, but he wouldn't do her any good dead. Rick gathered his strength and will to leave, shoved Imhotep back, then bolted down into hallway. Surprisingly, the priest didn't give chase.

Gasping for breath someway down the hall, Rick turned and shivered when the large door closed. A loud click echoed back to him. Imhotep didn't want them to take her. That's what he was watching over her for. He stood for long moments, at a loss as to what to do. He had just run from her and run from death. With Imhotep in there they were never going to get her out.

Years ago he would have died in that room, trying to get her out. Years ago there wasn't a bigger picture to look at, either, at least none he felt worth his life. Rick paced a little in the hall, cursing Ahamad for all those talks about the greater good. It was inconvenient and kept him from her.

There was no help for it. Age brought wisdom and in that Rick realized he wasn't going to best Imhotep tonight. There were reasons for him to live, Evy included. He turned away from the large door and began for Ardeth. Live today, fight tomorrow. He hated that stupid phrase. He hated it for being true.

~~~~~~~

Ardeth brushed his dark hair back as they crept up the stairs, ever wary of guards and jackals. They were nearing the palace's second floor and unfortunately as they came in view of the top, danger. Two jackals stood in wait for them and upon sight, attacked before anyone could prepare.

One of the growling jackals went straight for Ardeth, rushing him with a sword drawn. He dodged and went for the creature's wrist, but it was too strong and swung its powerful arm, knocking him to the ground. He groaned as pain throbbed through his side, but he didn't have time to let it bother him too much. Ardeth rolled out of the way of a falling sword and decided quickly to try the wrist again.

This time his counter-attack succeeded and he stood up to cut the creature's head off, but it wasn't necessary. He heard his former friend chanting some dark spell and suddenly the jackals hissed out of existence. Ardeth turned back towards the stairs leading up, watching as Jonathan crept towards the top.

Quite suddenly Jonathan yelped and started down the stairs again, gasping, "Big dog," as he ran past Ardeth. A very large dog did indeed follow, growling and barking as it darted towards Jonathan. The Englishman cried out when teeth sank into his extended arm and Ardeth took a step towards the disturbed animal.

Necromancer got there first, stretching out his thin, pale hand. The dog took notice of this other being and stopped dead. After a few tentative sniffs it bolted back upstairs. "Ow," Jonathan whimpered, flexing his fingers open and closed. "Bloody hell."

Ardeth peered at his torn sleeve and looked up with glinting eyes, causing the Englishman to scowl. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and turned back towards the stairs, murmuring, "We should continue." Jonathan nodded and headed up with him, Necromancer trailing behind.

The trio rounded a railing at the top of the stairs and headed on up towards the third floor. His side and arm ached from such violent use before healing could get a good start and Ardeth absently sent his hand down to the rip in his shirt. He felt blood slowly wetting the black fabric and knew he would have to see about it as soon as possible.

The third floor seemed a bit grander than the bottom and second floors. It was richer and more complex in its design, covered in lighter colors. Evy was somewhere up here. Immediately there were no guards, but Ardeth held no hope that this would be easy. He would count them lucky if O'Connell hadn't gotten himself killed.

They followed Evy's brother to a door not far down the hall and he knocked. There was no reply. He knocked again, then shrugged a moment later. "Imhotep's room," he replied bleakly, taking another drink from his bottle. "Let's pray he's not there."

"He is not," Ardeth answered that with a concealed frown. What state would they find her in if she were in the priest's bedroom? He didn't like to think of it.

Jonathan stopped them when they hit another four way stop. "The guards will mostly be running rounds about this floor, though near Imhotep's rooms we'll start seeing more stationary ones. I suggest we avoid fighting if we can."

Ardeth nodded and peered around the corner, watching a middle-aged human walk steadily away. "We'll stick to the shadows," he whispered, stepping back. "Are there many jackals up here?"

Jonathan waved his hand, but nodded. "More towards the royal apartments, though. For now we'll see mainly humans." He too peeked around the corner and took note of the walking guard. He pointed to the continuation across from the hall they were presently traveling. "We can go that way."

Steeling himself, Ardeth looked to Necromancer and said, "Will you make it?" He'd noticed the creature's uneasy pace.

Necromancer snarled and moved away. Hatred burned within those unliving eyes but changed or not, Ardeth could still see Sajul in his features. It made his stomach muscles clench. "Don't waste your cares upon me, Chosen! I warn you, Ardeth Bay, do not mistake me for something I am not." And with that he began into the hall, making Jonathan give a strangled gasp.

Ardeth knit his brows a little angrily, but didn't let his emotions get the best of him. Turning around the corner he looked at the guard and breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't noticed them. He motioned Jonathan on and they followed as Necromancer stalked on.

They managed to navigate the precarious hallways without incident, though Jonathan could swear a passing jackal had smelled them as they ducked beside a bookcase, citing Necromancer's odor. But if the creature had, it hadn't chosen to act against them. All seemed to be going well this night.

Until they heard footsteps rapidly hitting the floor, heading in their direction. Ardeth and Jonathan exchanged glances, then both men drew their guns and prepared for whatever it was that would meet them. Their enemy rounded the corner and stopped, raising his arms and breathing, "Whoa!" Seeing who it was, Ardeth put his guns away and Rick rubbed his chest, muttering, "Don't do that."

Ardeth nodded his head and looked beyond. "Have you had any luck in finding Evelyn?"

Rubbing the back of his neck and gazing back behind him, Rick sighed. There was an uncertainty there that made Ardeth uncomfortable. "Yeah, but Imhotep's guarding her."

The Med-Jai narrowed his brow and looked in the direction O'Connell had. So Imhotep had dragged himself from the depths of his own dungeon and now watched over his slave. He was going to have to do something about that soon. "Where are they?"

Rick shook his head and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Bay didn't think he was going to like hearing whatever his friend said. "Ardeth, this is Imhotep. I don't know how you got away from him or what you did, but he's obviously still in pristine health. I don't think storming in there is going to work."

With concern written in his blue eyes, Jonathan looked between the men. "Maybe if we sneak in there…"

"No!" The voice came from Necromancer, who hissed in dissatisfaction. "We will leave the slave behind. He means her no harm."

Rick grunted at that and made a face at the intrusive being that seemed slightly too fond of giving orders. "Doesn't mean her harm, huh? That's why she's in there with blood on her?"

"B-blood?" Jonathan stammered, alarmed by this. He looked down the hall in confusion. "Imhotep's no prize, but he's not usually that violent with Evy. Are you sure?" Rick nodded gravely.

Ardeth rubbed his finger along the trigger of his gun. They didn't get this far to leave her behind. They couldn't leave her to that beast—that _thing_ that had killed his people and enslaved the world. He was weary of the intensity of this night, but unwilling to leave a friend behind. "I can fight him. I can…" He stopped, seeing Necromancer's mildly curious gaze. Just what was going through that ruined mind of his?

The undead Med-Jai raised his chin condescendingly. "Blood or not, he means her no harm and has not for as long as I could sense him. She will endure until a later time. We _must_ leave now if you are to acquire the Staff of Osiris! Will you see the guards come down on us? There is still time for escape, though it is a very small opening."

Bay again looked down the hall, then back into Rick's eyes. His friend inhaled and shook his head. "Trust me, I hate this. But the world needs you. I don't wanna leave her here, but we won't do her any good dead or in Imhotep's torture chamber."

"You will return for her," Necromancer rasped temptingly, his voice oddly more gentle that usual. Not that that said much. "Now is not her time to enter the world again, but there will come a day when you will save her. We must go now."

Ardeth ran a hand through his dark hair, struggling with what he knew was right and his desire to save Evelyn as he had all but promised. Actually, he _had_ promised her within his own mind. Ardeth looked up at Rick, seeing his friend's oddly intense gaze. He could see a conversation taking place sometime in the future if his own confused feelings kept surfacing before the ex-Legionnaire.

"Where do we go now?" he asked, looking to Necromancer, since he seemed to have all the answers. Ardeth suddenly wanted to wipe that all-knowing expression off his former friend's face.

It was Jonathan that replied, though. He pointed down the hall they had come from and said, "We've got to head to the kitchens. Rick's friend Mayadeh is there, disguised as a serving girl. She's got further information about where we should go."

That was an answer everyone seemed satisfied with. Clapping Ardeth on the shoulder, Rick nodded and followed Evy's brother, breathing, "Okay. Let's get you out of here."

They made it back to the staircase, but not without being spotted. Two young guards broke into a run towards them and the four men began down the stairs as fast as their legs could carry them. They hit the second floor, the guards hot on their trail, and as Ardeth rounded the railing Rick bumped him. Ardeth tried to grip the railing for balance, but Rick had grabbed his sleeve in his own stumble and together they slipped down, both men landing uncomfortably down a few stairs. O'Connell swore and helped his friend back up, muttering, "We are definitely getting too old for this."

With a smile Ardeth was about to make a smart reply, but stopped himself, remembering what had happened the last time he answered that statement. The necromancer spared him a glance and Bay held his tongue as they continued their escape. As soon as they hit ground level, Rick turned and pointed his guns. Jonathan followed suit and Ardeth held up the sword he had taken from the jackal.

One of guards went down with a bullet to the knee, tumbling towards the four men below. The other took the confusion as an opportunity to leap down before his friend hit the floor. Landing right in front of Rick, he sent a fist into the ex-Legionnaire's stomach and Ardeth thrust his sword. The guard deflected and backed up towards Necromancer and the undead Med-Jai scratched him with long nails. He cried out and Jonathan shot him.

"We've got to get out of here," Rick breathed, looking to Jonathan for direction. Ardeth sheathed his sword and waited.

The Englishman nodded his head towards the hallway and the four took off, ducking the sight of guards and other palace denizens. Being some indeterminable time past midnight, the kitchen wasn't very populated, but neither was it empty. Ardeth was the first one in and a young girl screamed. He gave a friendly smile and tried to motion her quiet, but another figure caught his attention as Jonathan skidded into him, knocking him further into the room.

A very large man with a frying pan started heading in their direction. He glared Ardeth down with an almost evil fury, taking a swing. He rammed his hip into a table in trying to escape and groaned at the pain. The cook—at least Ardeth hoped the blood on this man's shirt was from handling meat—ignored the others and continued on him, growling, "_You!_ You are the dark, misbegotten fool that's been sneaking around here with my daughter? I promise by sunrise you will no longer have the qualifications of being a man!"

Ardeth widened his eyes at that and fumbled for the sword he had attached to his belt. The cook grinned in delight at finally having his chance to expend a little justice, but Bay hadn't been sneaking _anywhere_ for the past week. The pan came close to hitting him this time and he shook his head, dodging yet another hit. "Please! You have the wrong person!" he gasped, moving behind a counter.

That didn't stop the cook from swinging the pan again, and certainly didn't stop him from throwing it at the fleeing Med-Jai and yanking a hatchet up from his meat block. "You lie!" he accused, fingering the hilt of his weapon a little too fondly. "Oooh, you better pray, boy. Pray _really_ hard."

Rick crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with a smart expression, saying, "You've been a bad, bad boy, Ardeth. I told you to change your gigolo ways, but did you listen?"

Jonathan smirked beside him and motioned at the little drama unfolding. "And we thought Imhotep was bad. I say, our friend might wind up dead tonight, Rick."

With a disgruntled sigh, Ardeth dove for the floor as the hatchet sailed by where he had been standing seconds before. He frowned up at his friends and hissed, "Do you two _mind_?" The cook stormed towards him and Ardeth scrambled to his feet.

The young woman who had screamed and run for another exit in the kitchen wrung her hands and shook her head. "Daddy! This isn't even him!"

"Of course you would say that! I'm gonna kill him!" the cook replied, his gaze focused.

But before Ardeth could be killed, another voice entered the room, that of a woman who said sternly, "Jalil! What in the name of Amun are you doing?"

The cook stopped his mad pursuit for a moment breathlessly and shook his fist. "This urchin has been fooling around with my little girl and he's going to get what's coming to him! That's what!"

The dark haired woman looked the group of companions over and shook her head. "I know them. I'm quite sure you have the wrong man." She smiled to the ex-Legionnaire. "Did your friend do this?"

With a small chuckle, Rick shrugged, but amended at Ardeth's hot glare. "Nah. " He leaned a little closer to the cook conspiringly. "He's got a wife at home and from the looks of it I'd say he likes his women kinda ugly. Your daughter sure isn't that." He winked at the young girl and backed away when the large man rumbled. Ardeth groaned and rolled his eyes.

Jalil crossed his arms and inhaled deeply, looking to the woman. "If you vouch for them, Mayadeh, I will stop."

Mayadeh nodded her head and pointed towards another room. "Go get the broom, you big oaf. Look at this mess!"

Muttering darkly, the cook stalked back and disappeared, disappointed that his fun was over. With a longsuffering sigh Mayadeh looked Ardeth over. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I hadn't expected you tonight. Jalil's just a little upset about young Asimah here and her secret paramour."

Blushing a bright shade of red, the young girl winced and said to Ardeth in a small voice, "I'm sorry. You just sort of came at the wrong time, you see."

Ardeth waved his hand and inwardly calmed his frayed nerves. This was probably one of the strangest escapes he had ever taken part of. Rick elbowed him playfully and asked, "We ready to go?"

Mayadeh nodded. "Yes. I can take you out the back way. A path has been prepared."

She turned on her heel to leave, but something stopped them all from making it out the door. The main kitchen entrance swung open and a darkly dressed young man with long, black hair and a thin frame came in, saying, "Asimah? You here, my little minx?" His voice oozed with too much charm.

Knitting his brows and after everything feeling the need for a little justice of his own, Ardeth grabbed a pan and headed towards the thin man, ignoring his friends' startled questions. The boy frowned at the Med-Jai and opened his mouth to speak indignantly about being so approached, but Ardeth cut him off. "This is from the cook," he said deeply, knocking the young man in the head and handing him the pan after.

"Ow!" the kid whined, staring at Ardeth in complete shock. He looked to his blushing girlfriend and said, "What's wrong with _him_?"

Asimah slipped past the group and gathered her boyfriend up, dragging him towards the door, answering, "I'll tell you later. We better leave before Daddy comes back."

Jonathan edged towards the backdoor. "Speaking of _leaving_…" He left it hanging and waited.

Mayadeh nodded and followed, motioning the others on with a strange look at Necromancer on the way. They stepped out into the cool night air and Ardeth elbowed Rick. "I do not have an ugly wife," he chided. Then a mischievous grin spread across his lips and he decided he couldn't help but say it, though it may get him into trouble. "Evy will be so upset you said that about her."

Blue eyes widened and his jaw set, Rick stopped walking and pointed a finger. "You're a very bad man, you know that? I'm not talking to you."

Bay chuckled at his friend and glanced back at the third floor. Somehow leaving her there felt just like leaving his people strung up in mockery. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, and Sajul/Necromancer belong to me.

**A/N**: Hey! I wrote a LOTR story, aren't you proud? Well, it's a tiny ficlet about Elrond *shivers in delight* and his dark, jaded thoughts. Lol. As if there weren't enough of those running around. ;-D

http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1175969

At any rate, hope you enjoyed this chapter of Softly…I couldn't help that Gigolo reference…I had been listening to it while I wrote that seen. ;-D

**To Reviewers**:

**Cutiegirraffe802** – Hey! Nice to see another new face…thanks for the review and recommending the story! I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your story!

**Marcher** – Hehe…yeah, I figured they'd better have some hope before those thoughts of ending it all come pouring on in. ;-) Thank you muchly for your compliments! I'm pleased you enjoyed it! Immy needed to have his butt kicked a little, ya? ;-D

**Mommints** – Hehehe..I hope you worked on your story! ;-D Thank you for your compliments as well! And yeah, being accurate is a good, heppy thing. :-) You sounded like you knew horsey things! :-)

**Deana** – Mmmyeas. Ardeth saving ME. Good idea. ;-) *swoon* How does one swoon??? :-O Thanks!

**Marxbros** – I totally agree with you on Jonathan. :-) He's a nice look at what prolly more often than not people would behave like or similar to. Lol…it would get tiresome being with all those "heroic" people too. ;-) Thank you for the review…more Jonny and more Evil!Imhotep on the way! :-D


	13. Disquiet

**Speak Softly**  
Disquiet

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The camp was small and no light was spared to them.There could be no campfires lit for fear that the jackals may notice.Even sneaking away had been difficult, for the sight of the beings of Anubis was sharp and better than that of humans.Still, they had made it to the north and now hid within ruins of Karnac.

Ardeth lay draped over a large fallen column, his ankles crossed, his arms wrapped together and his eyes upon Eternal Sorrow.He pretended he could see the stars.The moment they had entered safety it had seemed his body could no longer compete with use.His side ached, but he had no motivation to see to it.More than his body, his heart was weighed down.He couldn't help but feel leaving Evy behind was a mistake.But Jonathan assured them she would be all right.Imhotep would not take vengeance against her for their crime of fleeing.

He prayed not.He could not have her suffering upon his hands like he did that of his people.Ardeth inhaled and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, murmuring to himself, "It was not my fault."Try as he may, though, he just couldn't wash the guilt off his shoulders.Why was he spared?Sajul had been every bit the good man Ardeth had tried to be.Now his friend suffered greatly.

His thoughts were interrupted as Rick approached and sat down on a column across from his friend.He lit up a cigarette, took a long and leisurely breath and offered the pack to his friend.When the Med-Jai declined, he nodded to Ardeth's side and said through a puff of smoke, "You should get that looked at."

Ardeth nodded, but did not stir.Instead he kept looking up at the dusty morning skies."I know," he admitted, closing his eyes.

Rick got up and came over to where he was laying and sat down beside his feet."That's probably why you feel tired, you know.You're gonna be weak until that scrape heals over."The ex-Legionnaire shoved Ardeth's legs over the side."Get up.Gotta keep healthy."

With a bit of effort Ardeth brought himself up and looked his friend in the eyes."How have you made it so long in this place?" he asked, more out of curiosity than any doubt it were possible.He rubbed his slashed arm.

O'Connell shrugged and looked out over the horizon, then smiled."Aren't you the one that's supposed to be handing out noble advice?"He returned his gaze to his friend and took another breath from his cigarette."Hope, I guess.It's harder to kill than one might imagine, unfortunately."

Ardeth shared his friend's smile and asked, "Why unfortunately?"

Again Rick shrugged his shoulders and turned his eyes downward.There was a war being waged inside him just as in any other person Ardeth had seen.A war between hope and doubt."I just sometimes wonder if we aren't setting ourselves up for disappointment.I guess that's not the point of fighting, but that sort of thinking puts a kink in the armor sometimes."Ardeth nodded, but said nothing in reply.Rick watched him through unreadable eyes."Can I ask you something?"

"I would never deny you that, my friend," Ardeth answered, wondering what was weighing on Rick's mind.He had seen flashes of something in those blue eyes for some time.

Now Rick looked distinctly uncomfortable as he gazed out towards the desert."What happened between you and Evy?" he said in a lowered tone."That joke you told when we were leaving…I mean I know you were just kidding, but how much of that came from something true?"

Bay knit his brows, wondering just how much Rick had surmised already.He knew he had let himself display his concern a little too much and yes, that joke was out of character from the man Rick had known bore only feelings of friendship for his ex-girlfriend, but had those small things led him to the truth?Ardeth knew there was the only response he could make, but it pained him at having to answer this.If he had known Rick were alive, had thought everything through before losing himself to his hurt…but he hadn't."She took me to see my people," he began, seeing his friend flinch at his words."I was overcome with grief.Evelyn comforted me and at the time…"

"Comforted you how?" Rick interrupted, still refusing to meet his friend's sorry gaze.He flicked his cigarette away and rested his arms on his knees.

Ardeth breathed in and looked out, knowing this wasn't going to be easy.How could he have been such a fool?He had not thought to even ask Evelyn if she still had feelings for Rick or if Rick still held feelings for her.He still couldn't say it, though.Instead he replied, "I think you know, Rick, though how you do is a mystery to me."

O'Connell nodded his head and finally let his eyes meet Ardeth's.He wanted to understand, the Med-Jai could see, but Rick was not one to easily brush feelings aside, whether justified or not."Your uh 'friend' mentioned something.So, you didn't even love her when you did it?"

That question caught Ardeth off guard.He had expected some sort of rebuke or at least his friend to wonder why he had done this thing, but that wasn't what had come from Rick's lips.This question more than the others seemed hardest to answer."Rick, I have always loved Evy.She is beautiful and very smart.But I will not lie to you and claim what happened was born out of true love.What my heart holds for her I do not yet know.I am sorry…"

Rick held up his hand and got up, visibly bothered by Ardeth's admissions."Don't be sorry.Look this isn't really my business and I understand needing to feel something other than the pain.I really do."He sent hands through his dusty brown hair and shrugged uncertainly."I don't know why she did what she did or who started it, or for what reasons, but I will tell you one thing, Ardeth.I swear to God if you've hurt her I'll put you back in the ground, savior or not."Startled, Ardeth opened his mouth to speak, but Rick shook his head, unwilling to hear more."No, don't.Look, I'm just tired and if I forget we talked about this when I wake up, good.Don't bring it up again."He waved his hand and began to walk away."Get yourself looked at, Ardeth, or I'll be the one to give you stitches and right now you really wouldn't like that."

Ardeth sat there, watching his friend go.There were no words for either speaking or thought right now, only the sensation of the heaviness on his heart increasing.One week back and already he had made a grave mistake, yet how could he call it that?He could not look back on the memory with complete shame because a part of him took comfort in the privacy of that special moment.Yet it wasn't private anymore.And Rick had made his opinion perfectly clear.

Of course death threats could be made lightly by the ex-Legionnaire and Ardeth did not fear he would be killed by his friend, but he wondered how this would affect their friendship.Would they now be enemies?The thought made Ardeth's weariness double.He was losing more people as time passed, to one thing or another.

He looked at the camp that grew more and more visible as the hours passed.Rick glared back and pointed to the woman who had rescued them, then crossed his arms and turned away.Perhaps his concern was a good sign.Then again, Ardeth could swear he caught on the air his friend telling her that being gentle was not necessary and it made him wonder.

As he approached Ardeth tried to meet his friend's gaze, but the ex-Legionnaire turned his back and headed towards a sleeping mat near the outskirts of the camp.He sighed and sat down, looking expectantly at Mayadeh.Jonathan flopped down beside him and puzzled over Rick's expression."What's the matter with him?"

Ardeth shook his head and looked Jonathan over, wondering if this man would find reason to turn against him.He heard Necromancer's intake of breath and frowned, then looked down as Mayadeh ripped his robe a little more.He winced when an alcohol soaked rag touched his sensitive skin."It is best left unsaid," he answered Evy's brother, who watched the mending process with absent fascination.

Jonathan nodded his head and looked up, then back at the large cut."I see.Rick ah, find out about you and Evy?"

Knitting his brows, Ardeth looked away from the needle approaching him.Did the whole world know?Still, Jonathan didn't seem bothered and that was a good sign that he still had at least one friend."How…" he paused and winced as the first stitch was being made, then met Jonathan's gaze."How did you know?"

Shrugging his shoulders and sparing Rick a glance, Evy's brother looked up with a neutral expression."My sister may have mentioned it."

"What did she say?" Ardeth replied, his curiosity piqued.Why shouldn't he want to know what Evy was feeling about it?He grit his teeth as Mayadeh dug the needle into his side and pulled it through again.

Jonathan shook his head."She's upset, old boy.Right now she thinks you're dead because of Imhotep and it was quite a blow to her.I didn't even know you were alive until last night and you came before I could tell her."Ardeth remained quiet a moment, frowning at the sand.So Evelyn thought him dead, did she?Imhotep was certainly racking up reasons to be taken care of, as if he didn't already have more than enough.

He looked to his friend with almost pleading eyes.At the moment the last thing he needed was another hurt face, but he had to know."Are you angry with me?Do you feel I dishonored your sister?"

"Oh, no," Carnahan replied simply."Poor thing's entitled to a few moments of happiness after all she's been through."He nodded to Rick's supposedly sleeping form."He's had it rough, Ardeth.Really rough.I'm not saying I lived like a king, but Rick knows what sort of relationship Evy and Imhotep have.He's just afraid of her getting hurt, having false hopes and the like.She doesn't even know he's alive because he doesn't want her to someday get the news he's been killed."

Ardeth nodded in understanding, breathing thankfully when Mayadeh let up on him a moment.She didn't look up, but he could see she was listening to their conversation.She grabbed for his arm and began cleaning it."Rick will get over it.He's been a bit edgy lately and prone to anger that doesn't last."Mayadeh pushed his arm back and smiled reassuringly, but Ardeth did not share her assessment of Rick—at least not in their situation.She picked up on that and exhaled, then looked behind him."That thing that followed you out of Imhotep's palace, what is it?"There was distrust in her voice and he couldn't blame her.

With a sigh he gave the only answer he knew to give, the same he had been giving, and said, "He is a guide.He claims he must lead me to the Staff of Osiris."She sat back and looked him over with an undisguised interest that made him feel uncomfortable."Why do you look at me so?" he asked her, unable to meet her gaze for very long.He had caught several such glances before and wasn't sure how to take it.

Mayadeh smiled and shook her head."You are different than I had imagined.Your name has traveled through our circles.We searched high and low for the man Imhotep feared, for this Ardeth Bay.You can imagine our reaction to finding that you were dead."He looked away at that and her tone became softer."I'm sorry.I've brought up something painful.I had always envisioned you, Imhotep's Fear we call you, as being cold.Someone who has nothing to lose.Yet I see you in fact have much to lose.It makes me afraid."

"Why is that?" he replied, meeting her neutral gaze.

The girl looked him over again, then stood up."No reason, Ardeth Bay.Rest well.Tomorrow we leave."Before he could stop her, she left him alone with Jonathan.

Evy's brother looked as puzzled as he felt, but said nothing.He crawled over to a mat and motioned his friend over to another mat beside him.Ardeth shook his head and stood up, dusting his hands off on his desert robe."I will rest later.Right now I must think."

Nodding his head, Jonathan flopped onto his back and rested his hands behind his head.He looked up from his upside down position."Don't think too much, old boy.That'll get you into trouble in a place like this."

Ardeth turned away and headed off to be alone.He could see the wisdom of those words.In this time and place it was better to not dwell on things and act as a machine, with no heart and nothing to get in the way.That was the reason for Mayadeh's fear.Yet could he stop the beating of his own heart?Not without drastic measures.But depth of emotion in a war would likely get him killed—any warrior knew that.No matter how much had been placed on him, he was going to have to brush it aside.Of course that was easier said than done.

He found a secluded wall and sank against it, watching the cloudy dawn arise.Sand shifted behind him and he knew he would get no rest from the words of others.This time it was Necromancer.The undead being crept closer and looked down on him through glinting eyes."They will betray you.One by one, Ardeth Bay, until you are alone with your torment."

Ardeth glared up at his former friend, seeing Rick's point in getting angry once in a while."I don't have the patience for you right now."

Necromancer laughed darkly, horribly and the sound seemed to pierce every nerve in Ardeth's body.The creature kicked sand at his friend."You will face all these horrors alone, Chosen.You shall find little rest.It would be better if we continued apart from them, for it would spare your heart needless suffering."

With a sharp glare, Bay crossed his ankles and leaned his head back.He was entirely too tired for this drama."Go away, Sajul.I do not care where you go or if you return, but leave me."

The other hissed at the old name, but didn't depart just yet.Instead he brought his withered form to the ground and sat before Ardeth, causing him to frown in irritation."It is true I do hate you, but it serves my purpose to be truthful with you.O'Connell has betrayed you by closing his heart to you and Mayadeh doubts your destiny.She and her brother will only help you when it serves them.I know you are of a mind to rescue the whore of Imhotep, but even she will betray your heart."

Ardeth laughed at that, a laugh devoid of humor.It was ironic and angry, dark and low."You yourself would betray me if it served you.Why should I heed your counsel and not that of the others?"He closed his eyes against the coming sun.Even though the cloud of Eternal Sorrow covered it from his eyes, he could feel it behind, waiting to return its touch to the earth.It felt as though the hidden rays penetrated his being, reminding him of the fact that he was still a newborn in this world.

"Because it does not serve me to betray you, fool," Necromancer replied harshly.He got up and turned away, leaving Ardeth alone finally.But not before one last word of argument was made."Mark my words.Placing your faith in them will be the end of you.Your love will betray you."

Ardeth folded his arms and murmured, "Liar," before letting himself get comfortable enough to sleep.The last thing he was going to do was let the words of that foul being lead him astray.Things were bad, but he refused to believe they were hopeless and he most certainly was _not_ going to leave Evelyn to suffer at the hands of Imhotep.In a way his promise to that meant more to him than saving the world from the priest.

He looked up and saw Necromancer wrapped up in his robes, cowering from the illuminated dimness as if he too could feel the sun just beyond reach.Ardeth was not going to let himself come to that, hiding from pain like an evil creature fleeing the light.Mayadeh was wrong in her beliefs concerning what sort of man should fight Imhotep.Having something to fight for made him stronger.

~~~~~~~

Nefertiri was stirring and soon she would have questions, he knew.She was going to be put off with him for knocking her out.Imhotep sighed and wet the ball of cotton in his fingers, then lifted her foot again to remove the red paint.He frowned upon the chemicals, unable to make even a guess at what abrasive ingredients it held.As the cold mix hit her foot she stirred again and opened her eyes.The priest instantly increased the pensive expression he had been wearing.If during her mood check she found him to be less than patient perhaps it would keep her from asking too many questions."What happened?" she ventured and he looked up momentarily.

His expression did not change and partly from true emotion, his voice was low and frustrated.He studied her now pink foot gently."The attackers have fled.They managed to escape, but not without taking your brother."

Evy gasped and widened her eyes.No doubt the idea of being left alone with him would be a frightening concept for her, though her brother's flight was quite convenient for his goals."Why did they take him?" she asked softly, as if more out of thought than expecting an answer from him.

Imhotep shrugged his shoulders and wet another ball of cotton.He frowned at the work he was doing, but kept at it.He enjoyed contact with her—the only piece of his ancient past he could hold to."I do not know why they have taken your brother, Nefertiri, but if he can be reclaimed it will be so.I have sent my jackals out to hunt."

That was at least partly true.He did send the beasts of Anubis out to hunt, but they would not return with Jonathan.They would not return with anyone.To be honest Imhotep was tired of the games.There would be no tormenting of his enemies within the dark of his dungeon.He wanted them dead.Yesterday.He wanted his jackals to find them and kill them painfully.Nothing more.There was no luxury for more.He had entirely too much to risk on the simple pleasure of hurting his enemy.

Imhotep looked down upon his slave princess, wondering what was going on behind her pretty eyes.She looked troubled, but that was nothing new.There was always something to trouble her.Nefertiri cared about the affairs of men too much.Did she not see what he offered her?She would not have to worry ever again if she would but accept the richness he would give her.

Still, he did not begrudge her an intelligent mind.He valued that now more than ever.Ancksunamun had been intelligent, far more than her slave master had given her credit.That sort of thing was to be prized and he would glory Nefertiri for it, instead of lowering her as her father had his love.

He exhaled and looked down at her now clean foot.No, he had no desire to shame her as Ancksunamun had been.But he would have his price.He would not allow that debt to go unpaid.The world would be hers, but in return he would gain ultimate possession of her—complete and utter.Less than that was unacceptable for what she had done.And he would not be without companionship, but only precious few met his standards.Of Nefertiri he had wanted before and now that he had enjoyed her, no other woman, willing or not, would satisfy his needs.There was intimacy to be had with even an enemy, more than a stranger.Imhotep pet her foot and looked into her saddened, worried eyes."Do not fear, Nefertiri.I will find him and bring justice to his captors."

"Thank you," Nefertiri replied softly, insincerely.She did not trust him and that was okay.He could live without that for now.The important thing was that she obey him and that she believe him to be the only person she can turn to.For it was Nefertiri that would be his link to this new world and help him understand and conquer it completely.

She was beautiful and the thought of claiming the heart and soul of this enemy awakened desire in him once more.Imhotep moved closer and leaned over her, practically caging her to the bed.She immediately froze.He looked over her tense, lovely face and noted her fearful eyes."I only want one kiss," he breathed, pressing his lips into hers.He kissed her deeply, taking every hot place inside her mouth as he hadn't in months.In their two years he had only taken her six times, savoring each when his mercy for her fear failed him.That mercy was going to fail a seventh time very soon, he foresaw.

Imhotep pulled up, touching her bare shoulder blade."Was that so terrible?"

Shaking her head, Nefertiri whispered, "No," in a soft tone of voice.Her fear was both a high and a disappointment.In the end it did not matter, though.Either way she belonged to him and only him.He would not be denied anything in this world.Not after it had taken Ancksunamun again.

He took her hand and kissed it, then stood."I have things I must do.The palace is yours, my princess."Imhotep looked down on her shivering form once more, then turned away and left her.He had a little trip to prepare for.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**:No infringement intended.Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, and Sajul/Necromancer belong to me.

**A/N**:So there I was on this dock, resurrecting Imhotep, when CELEBORN of Lorien banishes him back into the temple.I had wanted Imhotep awake for some reason…possibly to kill or kidnap someone named Elrond.(hopefully to kidnap nekked) ;-DI can't remember all that well.See, my aunt called at that moment and about half the brain cells carrying that dream jumped ship with pieces of the memory firmly tucked in their hands (possible floatation devices?) and I couldn't recall such a cool dream.Don't you hate that?

**To Reviewers**:

(Also thanks to anyone who reviews my little collection of extras!Glad you thought Oh The Humanity was funny and the Softly Snippets good.:-)

**Lula** – Hehehe….I thought Ardeth needed to let off a little steam.;-DAs for his joke, well, now you see what Rick really thinks.:-OYikes.What's a P.I.A.??? Lol.Thanks!

**Marcher** – Thanks…I'm glad you thought it was funny.I enjoyed writing it.Humor good.Humor took a dive in this chapter.Lol.Oye.

**Deana** – Thankya, my friend.Yes, I imagine Ardeth's quite overwhelmed, especially now.I wish I could comfort him. ;-)*lesigh*ah, reality.The bite of it all.;-D

**Marx** – Hehe…here's hoping you still like that Rick Ardeth thing going…lol.I mean of course Rick would never really hurt Ardeth, but hey…this IS Evy.:-OThanks for your compliments!


	14. Helpless

**Speak Softly**  
Helpless

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

They were moving again, hidden by cover of darkness. The wind was hard and cold, the skies stormy and black. Earlier the weather had done what Jonathan termed 'sprinkling', an event where the rain fell very mildly. If that had been sprinkling, it looked for the world as if it would saturate in short order. Ardeth wasn't quite sure he liked this idea of Egyptian rain. He was unused to being so wet in his own country.

Drawing his robe around him a little more snugly, he mentally kicked himself for leaving the cloak behind. It marked where he had buried the Book of the Dead, but in the end they had little use for it anyway. He needed to take the priest's gift of immortality and only the Book of Amun Ra would gain that. He wondered if Necromancer really had any clue where it was, for no one else seemed to.

The creature seemed to be avoiding him, either that or stalking Rick. It had stayed firmly away for the past few hours at any rate. So had Rick. His friend was still bothered by his choice and Ardeth supposed he had reason to be. Perhaps Evelyn would be angry with him as well and in that would come what Necromancer was terming a betrayal. So far everything the undead Med-Jai had predicted had come to pass. If the future would be as Necromancer claimed then he would be alone. He couldn't deny the small fear of that thought, but firmly kept faith that things would not become so bad.

Rick drew closer to the leader of this small band of warriors, a man near to Ardeth named Ahamad. "I'm gonna go scout ahead," he told him with that edge still concealed in his tone. The thunder rolled in the distance.

Ahamad nodded his agreement and handed Rick a shotgun. Ardeth watched his friend start to leave, knitting his brows as Necromancer began to follow him. The creature hissed at O'Connell's smart expression and said, "I will join you. I have senses you do not." Ardeth thought it strange, but if he wanted to get picky this whole world was strange to him. Let Necromancer befriend Rick if he thought it would get him somewhere.

"Yeah, yeah," Rick sighed, walking at a quick pace. Necromancer betrayed no irritation at that and followed. Within minutes they were out of view.

Jonathan sidled up to Ardeth's right and looked around. "We're in for some nasty weather," he observed and Bay grunted. The Englishman grinned. "Exactly."

The wind picked up and the air started to feel distinctly moist. In moments it would probably rain, adding to the already heavy atmosphere. This was a night that mourned and it made him feel edgy. He needed a distraction and Jonathan was handy to provide it. "Tell me, my friend, how did you and Evelyn come to be Imhotep's slaves and not Rick?"

Jonathan pocketed his hands and rolled his eyes. "Luck, I guess. While Imhotep was off fighting the Scorpion King, his bird Ancksunamun—or Meela as they called her in this life, she was prowling around Cairo looking for some Med-Jai spies. Evy and me, we happened to be there and she captured us. Rick was off with the Med-Jai in the desert, trying to fight both the Scorpion King and Imhotep. We got taken to Imhotep's encampment and as he fought the Scorpion King we just sort of migrated with him wherever he went. He was going to kill us, but then Meela got kidnapped and one night he got word that the Scorpion King had killed her. After that I guess Imhotep needed something to distract him, so he chose Evy. I stayed around as his way of being charitable to her needs." He kicked the sand as they walked.

Ardeth frowned at that. Imhotep charitable? Only to his own gain. The high priest would do nothing unless it was for his own gain. And poor Evelyn was still left behind, still suffering with life at his side. The things that likely went on between them bothered him in a more personal way than it may have before he met Evy. He hated that the creature would know her so intimately—as intimately as he himself now knew her. Ardeth shook the thought from his head and looked up at her brother with a sincere promise, both to he and himself. "I will save her, Jonathan, or die trying."

"I know," he replied with a soft, sad smile. "I also know you wouldn't hurt her and I think Rick knows that somewhere inside that thick head of his, but…"

There was no time for Jonathan to finish his thought. One of the rear guard called out in a panicked voice, warning them of impending attack. Ardeth turned around and saw not less than thirty or so jackals approaching fast. Thirty against a party of ten, eight with Rick and Necromancer gone. Those weren't good odds. Without thinking he ripped his acquired sword from its sheath.

They rushed upon the group in what seemed like seconds, snarling and growling as they began to mix into the shouting warriors. Ardeth saw the first victim—a boy of likely no more than nineteen—cut down before he could get in more than two shots. Someone behind him shot the offending jackal's head off. Beside him Jonathan swore and drew his guns, entering the fray as the creatures continued to infiltrate their surroundings.

Things were happening very fast. Ardeth found himself face to face with two jackals, both bloodthirsty and vicious. Their scimitars thrust and slashed towards him, but he managed well enough. He fought as Mayadeh would have preferred, like a machine that had nothing to lose. Yet despite that he could not shut out the cries going on around him. Their voices screamed in his ears, piercing his heart like nothing ever had. He had been in many battles, but had never been affected like this. He could almost feel their lives being ripped away in cold blood.

One of the jackals managed to scratch his cheek with a clawed slap, causing him to gasp at the pain. It took advantage of his momentary pause and shoved him to the ground, but Ardeth regained himself enough to fend off further attack. Another one of Rick's people died nearby. _As long as you can make a difference_, Ardeth told himself, ignoring the numbers against him. He swung his sword and beheaded the jackal that had pushed him. Another came up from behind and he killed that one too.

At that point a scream caught his ears sharply. Mayadeh had been the only woman with them. Her cries filled the air and suddenly stopped with a groan and the sound of a body hitting the sand. Ardeth heard Ahamad's anguished shout and his heart lamented. Everything seemed intense to him, the wrongness and the pain of this attack saturating him to his core. It echoed inside of him as his return had like some undesired aftereffect.

The rain that the skies had promised began as a downpour, soaking him quickly as he took care of another jackal that had come upon him. He found himself shivering as he never had, unable to drown out the sounds of death that filled the air as lightning flashed and thunder boomed. Ardeth tried to push his hypersensitivity away, knowing it could get him killed if he failed to pay attention.

Suddenly another sound jolted through him unlike the others. Jonathan cried out and hit the ground, and Ardeth whipped around. Evy's brother had fallen to the sand and there was blood staining his white shirt. His pulse racing with fear that his friend lay dead, Ardeth shoved and slashed his way through fighting jackals until he came to Jonathan's side. Dropping down, he felt for a pulse and sighed in relief. A trail of blood lead down the side of Jonathan's mouth as he gasped and looked up at him. No, not at him. Beyond him.

But it was too late. Before Ardeth could heed the warning Jonathan was trying to give, claws sank into his shoulders. He was jerked from his friend and dragged away on stumbling feet. Ardeth pulled from his captors with as much strength and will as he had ever fought with, but to no avail. The jackals that held him tossed him down to his knees and he looked up. Five of them surrounded with ill intent and weapons drawn.

He had mere moments to let that soak in and take a few breaths. Beyond them there were other circles of creatures, circles where murder was taking place. Terror filled screaming came from every direction and he knew he was next. Ardeth risked a glance at those around him and whispered, "Oh God." They came down on him, pinning him to the earth below with rough hands on his shoulders and ankles.

Ardeth heard his robe being torn in spots, felt immediately his skin being sliced open. He closed his eyes against the rainfall that wept over his body, only able to distinguish that from his blood by the difference in temperature. The rain was deathly cold but his blood hot as it started running down his skin. He swung his arms in a last attempt to fight them off and was punished with a blade biting at his fingers. The burning sensation spreading through him caused Ardeth to yell out and a clawed hand closed over his mouth, silencing him.

He tried to pull himself up, to escape this terrible fate, but the creatures only slammed him back down and continued with their merciless game. He was starting to lose track of exactly where they were hurting him. Everything was becoming a blur, but the sounds of their growls filled his ears. That he could hear and comprehend very clearly. His struggles began to die down now, his breathing ragged and labored.

Ardeth blinked at the pain, groaning in his inability to cry out any louder. Weakly he wrapped his blood soaked, cut up fingers around the wrist of one of his tormentors, looking for something to brace him through this torture for just a moment. Just one moment was all he sought to pretend he wasn't alone. His fingers were easily pried loose and his hand tossed back with cruel laughter. There would be no comfort in this. He dizzily shook his head and thought about Evelyn. O'Connell would have to save her. He would not survive this. None of them would.

He found tears filling his eyes as he felt everything fading away. The pain was becoming unbearable now and his body would give up. One of those clawed hands holding him lifted and he thought to escape, but whatever communication from his brain to his body had been terminated prevented that. He could not get his limbs to respond. His flesh burned and bled, and he realized there was only one other time in his life he had felt this helpless. 1929.

They left him alive, but he doubted he would remain so for very long. His body throbbed as though they were still cutting him and for all he knew, they still could be. It was becoming hard to differentiate between reality and the echoing memory of their triumphant, amused growling. Now free, Ardeth tried to drag his heavy arms up over himself to block off anything further that could be done, but all he could manage was to brush the sand below with weak fingers. The tiny grains were like needles.

Ardeth fought for painful breaths and trembled violently as he realized just how quickly Imhotep had beaten him. In such a short span the priest had managed to rip everything else away from him, as if everything he had already taken had not been enough. The priest had Evy, had killed his friends and now had victory over him. Ardeth's destiny would go unfinished.

He had expected things to be bad, but not this. Not this. Everything was becoming black. He did not even have the strength to whimper or pray. The trembling stopped.

*

The first thing he noticed when he slowly began to awaken was the soft rain. It splashed coolly against his face and felt oddly refreshing. Of course that was probably due to the fact that most of his days were spent underground, hiding. He didn't care what the locals said. Rick liked the rain.

He opened his eyes and saw that it was still dark outside. That could be good in that he hadn't been out too long, or bad in that only God knew how many days might have passed. With a groan, Rick sat up and rubbed his head. No, this wasn't that bad of a hit. He couldn't have been out for more than a few hours or so. His head was killing him, though, a favor he looked forward to returning to that creepish nightmare that hit him.

Rick stood up and squinted in the dark, looking for the creature. Necromancer was nowhere in sight and true to Rick's luck of late there weren't any tracks. "Just great," he muttered, scouting for the shotgun. That at least was left for him. He grunted and picked it up, checking to make sure it was still loaded.

It was time to find the others. For whatever reason they obviously hadn't come by and he had to have been out for at least a good ten minutes for this bad of a headache to develop. The last thing he remembered was walking and asking that thing what it wanted, then suddenly everything went dark. Just what was that crazy dead guy up to, anyway?

Rick sighed and brushed a fallen lock of drenched hair from his eyes, walking back towards where he had left the others. The palace of Imhotep stood grandly in the far distance, showing him the correct path. It seemed awfully quiet out here to him. There should be talking or something. Anything, but there was nothing. He didn't like that one bit. "Ahamad!" he yelled, hoping there wasn't a surprise ambush waiting for him out here. "Ardeth!" No reply. Rick stopped and looked out over the dark desert floor before him. He could see no shadowy forms in the scant light.

He did what any other man would do. He swore and continued, wondering what in god's grief was going on. If the explanation wasn't good he was going to kill someone. Rick scratched the back of his neck and stormed on towards that stupid palace. God only knew he was probably going to have to go all the way back there just to rescue them all single handedly. This wasn't a promising start to the grand defeat of Imhotep.

As the ex-Legionnaire walked, grumbling to himself about life, he kept his eyes firmly fixed ahead. The truth was he was just a bit nervous about this waking up with no one else around. He didn't want to think about where they could be right now. Imhotep could do some fairly nasty things when he was mad enough.

He suddenly got the feeling he wasn't going to have to traipse all the way back to Imhotep's palace. From the distance he was at it looked as if they were sleeping, though they weren't bunched together as a usual encampment would be. He didn't see anyone attacking or anyone even leaving the scene. Rick broke into a light jog, his pulse rising. None of them were moving.

The first person he laid eyes upon was Ahamad. This man who he disliked in some way, who disliked him as equally. His dark eyes stared at the skies, unblinking and unmoving. Blood painted the sand around his body and Rick swallowed his shock. Then it hit him. There were more.

Forcing himself away, Rick walked on through the camp, his eyes moving over every body he passed. It just wasn't registering. This couldn't be. They couldn't be…but they were. They were gone. Dead. He stopped hard when he saw Mayadeh and looked down on her face, unscarred by the torments he'd seen written across the others. In her lovely face he saw her son's. The kid was an orphan now, like him and many others since this war had begun. Quite suddenly his stomach began to hurt. She wouldn't laugh anymore.

Turning around and trying desperately to see through the dim moon glowing through Imhotep's ceiling, Rick made his way through the scene and looked until he found one of the people he was seeking. His heart sank when he saw Ardeth lying out, as unmoving as the rest and attacked more cruelly. No, this wasn't happening. Reality seemed to fade. It was like something out of a nightmare. Rick dropped to his knees and hovered between trying to help and doing nothing. In the shock nothing won out and he sat back on his legs, his crystal eyes filling with wetness as they swept over his friend and the rest of the company. 

These injuries were beyond repair even if his friends were alive. "God," he breathed in a thick voice, not sure what to do with himself or anyone else here. His friend was dead again, having been taken to horrible depths of suffering and killed, the world's hope snuffed out. Rick filled with shock and despair and looked at Ardeth, not sure what to feel besides the visions hitting him again and again. "How could you leave us? How could you do this to us again, you jackass," he hissed, misdirecting his anger. He stared with unblinking eyes, thinking of how Evy would take this…how he was taking this. What he had said had been uncalled for. Rick loved Evy, but Ardeth would never do anything to hurt her intentionally. Not anything that would warrant the kind of threat Rick had made out of jealousy.

There lay Imhotep's Fear and his friend, his skin marred and drenched in blood. Rick couldn't even guess how long this torture had taken. Had Ardeth been awake to endure it all? O'Connell jumped when a crack of thunder echoed across the desert. Imhotep's Fear and Egypt's Hope was gone. 

Was it Necromancer? Did he do these things? No. Only one type of being could possibly do this level of damage that Rick knew. He could recognize the workmanship. Jackals. Ardeth and Jonathan were gone because of jackals. Did he even want to see what condition Evy's brother had been left in?

Wiping his cheeks and falling back, Rick leaned back on his hands and tried to let everything sink in. This was too much. Imhotep had taken too much this time. His best friends lay out here, attacked viciously and left dead. He had counted on being the first to go, after Ardeth. He had counted on Jonathan and Evy being able to cling to each other through the hardships life brought.

His fists clenched and his head turned, his expression filled with dark purpose. Rick inhaled and pulled himself up, then looked for Ardeth's sword. When he found it, he attached it to his belt and wiped his hair back with a sniff. If Ardeth couldn't be the one to defeat Imhotep, by God, Rick would. He was going to kill him, then raise him and kill him again and again. Let Imhotep feel what this felt like. The first way he would die would be the same as Ardeth and these others. Rick was going to make him suffer unlike he had ever imagined, he…

He stopped and tilted his head, listening. A soft groan came from below and he whipped around. It wasn't too far a jog. Jonathan, not having suffered the same torments as Ardeth, lay on the sand with a pained expression. He coughed and reached out for help. Imhotep could wait.

Rick fell beside Evy's brother and wiped at his rewetting cheeks. "You're alive," he breathed, unable to believe it. He wasn't even sure if he were ready to accept that everyone else was dead. It was better to focus on the good right now while the pain was fresh. "Thank God, Jonathan. Are you hurt bad?"

The Englishman shook his head and took a deep breath, murmuring softly, "Jackals. They came. Ardeth…"

A stabbing pain hit Rick's stomach like he'd been kicked as he shook his head, unable to form the words. "He's…he's…everyone's…"

Jonathan recognized that tone and his eyes widened, then closed. "God help us," he managed and Rick almost felt like laughing. He realized now that it would take a miracle even greater than Ardeth to put an end to this terrible war. It would never end. He needed to get out of here, needed to think without waves of shock slamming into his system. He decided to chance it.

With every ounce of strength he could gather, Rick helped Jonathan up and draped his arm around his shoulder. They were going to have to hide and Jonathan needed a doctor. "We'll go on," he said in a shaking voice, trying to hold up his friend as much as possible. Jonathan nodded weakly.

Rick looked at the long path ahead, then over at Ardeth's lifeless form. Twice he had lost his friend because of Imhotep or his purposes and this was wholly different than the last time. Vastly worse. The expression written across the Med-Jai's features did not even speak of a death that had found rest like Mayadeh's. A few tears slid down Rick's cheeks as he turned away and helped Jonathan.

Imhotep had something new to fear. Him.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Abul and Sajul/Necromancer belong to me.

**A/N**: :O I know how it looks, but just remember what this chapter's summary said. "Rick's Betrayal: Ardeth and Jonathan are brutally attacked, and Rick unwittingly betrays his Med-Jai friend when he finds them." It's a cluuuue…it's a cluuuuue! ;D Plus those of you that read my snippets know something's gotta happen…

**To Reviewers**:

**Lula** – Well, see Rick's jealous, but the main reason he got so mad at that particular moment was because what Ardeth and Evy had done wasn't done out of true love, necessarily…Ardeth's not sure. So Rick doesn't want Evy getting hurt, ya know? :-) Thanks for the info on PIA. ;-D (Hope you can bring yourself to do more **Endless**. Miss that story!)

**Marx** – Thanks! I'm very flattered you think I've got the characters good…I wonder about that sometimes. :-O So it's a very nice thing to hear!! Can't wait for more **Hereafter**!

**Catt** – Nice to see a few reader! I'm happy you're enjoying this and I hope you stay tuned. Thanks muchly!!

**Marcher** – Hehehe. Talk about overwhelmed, huh? ;-) I'd say he's pretty overwhelmed now, moreso. Muahahaha! Thank you so much for your compliments! And for reading my LOTR stories as well…always nice to have a kind word. :-) I'm glad you're getting further with **Captain** now…kick the computer across the street! Muahaha!

**Deana** – Heeey..wow. Thanks so much for saying that. Means a lot…especially after I re-wrote a little of the conversations last chapter since you had read it. :-D Always good to get better! Anyhoo, I wonder if you've updated the PM story yet…I should go look, huh? :-O Thanks!


	15. Gone

**Speak Softly**  
Gone

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evy inhaled deeply and looked herself over in the mirror. She rather thought she looked good in burgundy, though she could use a little more covering. She rolled her eyes and sat down at her vanity, grabbing a brush. Combing it through her hair, she hummed a little and wondered where her brother was and if he were being treated properly. She likely wouldn't find out for some time. Imhotep had a meeting across the border and had to get there to make sure everything was arranged correctly, and since she usually had to go everywhere he went she was stuck.

Of course the king-priest was lavish in his assurances that all would be taken care of while they were gone. If Jonathan were found and liberated, he would be returned and allowed to continue life in the palace as before. If not, they would keep looking. There was really nothing she could do here but worry, so Imhotep wanted her to come away and take a break.

She sighed and opened her powder jar, dipping the large puff a few times and shaking it. She always had to look good for her master. Evy looked at herself in the mirror and stuck her tongue out. The door to her changing room opened without being knocked upon. Only Imhotep did that.

He walked around the door and she scowled at his attire. He wore black pants and a black shirt, his dark robes replacing what on men of her age would have been a suit jacket. "That's not fair, you know," she told him, watching him approach. "Why don't I get to wear something more conservative?"

Knitting his brows, Imhotep surveyed the contents of her vanity and picked up a tube of lipstick he was particularly fond of. Kneeling down, he grabbed her cheeks and made her face him, then brushed it across her lips with careful, measured strokes. "Because, Nefertiri," he answered in a mild tone as he looked over his work and let her face go. She rubbed her cheeks and frowned at him. He smiled and pulled her forward by her neck, kissing her with a heated fervor that told her he wasn't going to wait too much longer for an answer to his proposal. "You are a slave."

Evy sighed and turned her body away from him, looking back at her reflection. She could see him there too, his eyes traveling her over. "When do we leave?" she asked, hoping to distract him from such thoughts. He wiped the lipstick from his lips and smiled.

Imhotep placed a small kiss her cheek and stood straight. "I came to see if you were ready to leave now." His tone was distant and his eyes shadowy. She could hear his question even when he did not speak it.

She looked him over through the mirror and exhaled. What should she tell him? When would he make the final demand? She wasn't ready to answer him yet, but time was running out and with that his patience. Evy almost thought remaining his slave forever would have been better than having this brought before her. She could not afford to make the wrong choice. Still, he wasn't asking her just yet. "I'm ready," she told him, pushing her chair out and standing. Evy wrapped her arms together and waited.

Imhotep let his eyes sweep her over in appreciation again, resting finally on her face. He touched her cheek softly, but said nothing. A master inspecting his pet. The priest turned away and motioned to her bags, breathing, "Come then, my princess. We must depart." He headed for the door.

Evy pursed her lips and gathered her things, joining him in the hallway. She stayed behind as far as she could. Things certainly felt different between she and this monster, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint what or if it were of the good. He was still dominant and that would never change, she knew, but at least he wasn't so demanding with her. He had hit her only once since her welcome home beating, which was a definite plus, and he had even been a little more merciful with Jonathan.

It would never be a marriage made in Heaven. There were absolutely no illusions about that. Every girl wanted prince charming to sweep her off her feet, but if it hadn't looked like that would happen before, now that Imhotep ruled over her, it definitely appeared out of the question. She didn't want to marry him, it felt like giving in and saying it was okay for him to do these things to her and her friends. But what if it made things better? In reality it probably couldn't make things worse—damaging nothing but her pride. And what if she could help him change, as he seemed to offer?

Yet something else stuck with her, something her brother had said. Marrying Imhotep wouldn't be like admitting Ardeth was gone. That phrase had struck her and that, she decided with a sigh, was her problem. The constant question of what if Ardeth wasn't dead. Evy stared at the floor as she walked, wondering where he was, if he were okay or if indeed he was dead once more. Logic taunted her with the latter, while hope kept burning deep within, saying he would return and he would be fine. But what if it wasn't true?

Ahead Imhotep stopped as a jackal approached him and bowed. She stayed a little behind and waited to see what was going on. Through that otherworldly voice she had grown to hate, it looked up and announced in uncaring tones, "The brother is dead." Her bags hit the floor.

The priest came to her, but she pushed him away. Evy covered her lips and turned, staring back down the hall. No, it wasn't true. Why was she losing everyone? She wanted to run away and hide, but Imhotep would never allow that. She heard him moving behind her and turned to see what terrible thing he was about to demand now.

Imhotep bent down and picked up her bags, handing them to the jackal. "Take these to the car in back and leave us."

With a snarl the jackal took the bags and obeyed its master quickly. Evy found the idea of moving hard. Tears were already running freely down her face and for once she didn't care about her makeup or if it displeased Imhotep. Apparently neither did he at the moment, for instead of the usual rebukes and words about how life was never fair, least of all to slaves, he merely wiped her cheeks and said gently, "Come."

Evy covered her face and let herself cry, ignoring the arm that went around her as she began to walk. She took no comfort in it, but didn't have the will to care whether or not he touched her. All she could do was hear that laugh and see those glinting blue eyes. Things she would never enjoy again.

For the first time in her life Evy felt completely alone with this man. It scared her.

~~~~~~~

"You know, you are one lucky man." Rick looked over at his lone companion and shook his head. How Jonathan had managed to survive the attack Rick couldn't guess, but summed it up as a miracle. He wasn't even too worse for the wear. The Englishman had sustained a hit to the face, a good beating and a blade to the shoulder, but was otherwise reasonably together.

Jonathan groaned about the pain in his shoulder. He did need a doctor, Rick knew, but their trip was going to take just a little longer. They couldn't go north to where Ahamad's contacts were waiting. The jackals knew they had been heading that way, so Rick had opted they go west. The neutral lands lay that way, where most people neither served Imhotep nor fought against him. It was dangerous there, but their best shot.

Rick stretched his tired muscles and flopped back against the sand, staring up at the blue sky. Sometimes thoughts of Ardeth tried to find their way into his mind, but Rick fought them every time. He couldn't' afford to mourn again and didn't look forward to it a second time. After he killed the priest, after that he would let it all out and probably sob like a baby for his losses and in utter joy that it was over, but not now. And not only was he planning to kill Imhotep, but if he could find that necromancer he was going to teach it some thorough lessons about betrayal. That thing had to have known what was going to happen. Why else would it have wanted to accompany him?

"Rick," he heard Jonathan say and with a sigh, he sat up. His companion was looking at him with concern written in his eyes. "We've got to get word to Nashean and tell him to let Evy know we're alive. Poor thing suspected Ardeth was dead already and absolutely does not need to know about last night, but I think she needs to know about us."

He was probably right. Rick had spent a lot of time protecting her from the fact that he was alive. The fact was she had never known what had befallen him and he took advantage of that. Anything to minimize the pain she felt. But now she was alone, or would feel that way as soon as Imhotep told her Jonathan was dead. She needed something else to cling to other than that overbearing monster. They would contact her somehow.

"Yep," he breathed, scratching his thigh. His pants were still wet and it bugged him. O'Connell looked around the desert, wishing by some stray chance his eyes would hit Necromancer. He hated that thing. Rick looked again to Jonathan, noticing that both of them seemed too tired to offer fake smiles. "Think you can make it? I know you're tired, but I wanna get to the west so you can get treatment."

He nodded, eyeing his friend thoughtfully. "And so you can get going?"

Rick got up, came closer and bent down to help Jonathan up. The other took it gratefully and winced at his body stretching. With a grunt, Rick gathered their scant supplies and stepped in beside Evy's brother, ready to help him walk if he needed it. "Yeah. That's part of why I wanna get away. Another is that those jackals might come back, hell even Imhotep might wander out here. I'm not ready to kill him just yet."

Jonathan walked a little slower than Rick would have preferred, but that was okay. The priest would always be there. Always. Rick could take his time and think about this if he wanted, though he had to admit his impatience for the idea was growing. If only it were as simple as marching in and blowing his head off.

They both knew that was not the case. Jonathan looked every bit like he was going to say something Rick wouldn't want to hear as he stared ahead, rubbing his hands together as he took slow steps. Blue met blue and Rick sighed at his friend's gaze. "Rick, I want him dead like you wouldn't believe, but we _are_ talking about Imhotep here. The guy who no one has been able to stop for the past nearly two years."

"I don't need you to tell me the odds, Jonathan," Rick said.

Jonathan shook his head, saying, "Look, what exactly are you planning, anyway? I mean it's not as if you can just waltz in there and kill him. Even if he were unarmed and standing right in front of you, you couldn't."

Rick shrugged his shoulders and thought about the sword on his belt. He knew Jonathan was only trying to help, but right now he could do without thinking. He just wanted to kill. "I gotta do something, Jonathan. I'm not gonna just go knocking on his throne room door, asking if he'd be kind enough to die for us, though. I'm not that stupid."

His friend continued. "Look, I know, but…"

Rick stopped and shook his head. There wasn't anything to talk about. "No. You don't have to go. I'm not asking anyone's help here, but something has to be done and if…well, I'm just gonna be the one to do it. End of discussion."

But instead of closing his mouth, Jonathan hardened his eyes, snapping, "So, you're just going to do something foolish and then die? Is that it? Why don't you just save yourself the trouble and end it right here? Things are hopeless, so why not stop it all, huh? You go right ahead and do that, Rick, but I'll not go risking my neck on some foolish stunt that'll end up leaving Evy _really_ alone. There was one man that was supposed to stop Imhotep and…"

Rick furrowed his brows angrily and interrupted, "Yeah, well Ardeth's gone! Do you want to talk about that, Jonathan? You want to talk about everyone placing their hope in something that's not going to happen? Want to talk about how I treated him badly, wandered off like a jerk and then came back to find him dead? That should have been me out there, but instead it was him. Now we don't have _any_ hope and my friend is lost again. Well, I might not have the ability to cause Imhotep pain and I might not have the level patience and understanding as Ardeth, but I sure as hell am gonna try to do what he can't now. Don't you dare try to talk me out of it!"

That did it. Rick could tell his friend was miffed and worried, and underneath it all he appreciated that out of Jonathan. He really did. But they were running out of options. He was a believer. He was immortal and everything would work out in the end. Of course he had believed everything would work out for Ardeth, too. He was part of this, part of Rick, and seeing what he saw was worse than 1929.

And poor Mayadeh. God, that hurt. Rick thought about little Raji, her son. He'd only met the kid once, but knew he held his mother's charms. He was just another Rick O'Connell now, no parents and no home except wherever he was shipped to stay until he turned eighteen. Kids orphaned in this world had it hard with Imhotep's iron fist. People couldn't always afford to take in the numerous children.

Even Ahamad's death troubled Rick on some level. He supposed they had shared some sort of friendship at that, but what kind he couldn't say. They had never agreed on anything. Never got along. But Rick missed him all the same. He swore and Jonathan heard, but didn't say anything.

Something had to be done about this. Things couldn't stay this way. Rick looked out over the desert and wondered where the Book of Amun Ra was. If anything was going to stop the priest, it was going to be that. "All right, Jonathan," he breathed, looking to his friend. "You don't want me doing something stupid, right?" Evy's brother nodded and Rick smiled without the feelings to back it up. "Fine. I won't, but how would you like to help me with a little research?"

Jonathan cocked his brow and looked him over suspiciously. "What sort of research, Rick?"

"The 'where the hell is the Book of Ra?' kind. Even that's probably going to be dangerous somewhere along the road, but it's better than getting killed." He gave his friend a sidelong glance. "What do you say?"

Carnahan thought about it, mulling over the facts and looking caught between agreeing and not. Rick wouldn't blame him if he didn't. Men with blue eyes in Egypt weren't treated very kindly, assuming they weren't hauled into the nearest jail for bounty. But this would help Evy and there was no way Jonathan would stand aside for that. He smiled and nodded. "I'm in."

~~~~~~~

_He had known this was going to turn out badly from the moment the guard had called for help. There would be losses this day. Many losses._

_None so terrible as the ultimate blow that he was to be dealt by the end of the fight. Without reason the unknown attackers ceased the battle, turned away and rode out of the Med-Jai encampment like they had just defeated them. Of course that wasn't true, he could see his people still held to their great numbers. Why had they left so suddenly? Sajul knit his brows, watching one of his uncles run to a fallen friend. His heart hung heavy for the brothers, mothers and wives that had lost a loved one today._

_He turned, meaning to go back to his tent and hide his heart from this mess, but something stopped him before he even took a step. Someone was lying upon the ground who should not be. Laughter flashed through his memory and pushed him forward. Sajul fell to his best friend's side, uncertainty passing through every corner of his mind. This could not be._

_Ardeth lay on the sand, his eyes closed and blood trailing the side of his head. Sajul touched his friend's cheek, then noticed something. The rise and fall of his chest. His friend still lived. Immediately he whipped his head up and shouted, "I need help!" He was no healer._

_Three men came and one knelt to examine the fallen warrior. Abdullah the Healer, who was highly skilled. Being the son of one of the elders, Ardeth was a top priority and would receive only the best attention immediately given the extent of his wounds. Sajul frowned, knowing he would not prefer it that way. He would prefer the others be looked at first and right now that mentality irritated his friend. He did not want to give Ardeth up to death yet._

_Abdullah looked up and said, "His neck is not broken. We must bear him to his tent."_

_Sajul took up a position near Ardeth's upper body, thinking it somehow would make him closer to his friend. Together the four men lifted him and began. A voice called out suddenly and it made his heart sink. The voice was small and womanly, and terribly frightened. "Where is my brother?" she called out and Sajul heard her gasp. She came to his own side and looked into Ardeth's sleeping face. "What happened?"_

_"Wait," Sajul replied with a shake of his head. There were many grieved voices on the battlefield today, but hers stood out in his mind like a knife. Arya Bay silenced herself, probably with much effort, and followed with worried eyes._

_They came to his tent and Arya held it open for the men to take her brother inside. Sajul noticed she did not come in. There was nothing he could do here but worry. As soon as Ardeth had been placed on his bed, he left the tent and met her outside. "What happened?" she asked again and this time she would have her answer if her tone said anything about it._

_Sajul crossed his arms and shook his head. He had not seen his friend fall. "I do not know, but it appears someone hit him in the head."_

_Her dark eyes widened in fear at that. Wounds to the head could change a man's life drastically, even end it. "Not my Ardeth," she murmured. He was all this small woman had left. Sajul took her into his arms and they waited together._

_Time passed and around dusk Sajul found himself sitting in watch over his brother-warrior. He had been sitting here for hours it seemed. The healer had attended Ardeth's gunshot, but could not revive him. Now they could only wait. Arya refused to leave Ardeth's side, waiting for any signs that he would awaken or even merely stir. There were none._

_She was dreadfully quiet, which he had learned was her way when something frightened her this badly. Arya rubbed a cool rag over her brother's face, but said nothing to coax him back to wakefulness. It worried him for her, but what could he do? He could think of only one thing—to sit and watch over them as he had when they were all young._

_Being the oldest of the three, Sajul had always been the elder brother to them. Arya was the instigator of their nonsense, Ardeth the sensible, obedient one and Sajul had been the one to bail them out of trouble. He had failed today. Ardeth lay gravely injured because he had failed to get him out of trouble this time. Oh, he knew Ardeth was a man now and Arya a woman, but he still felt like the older brother. He still felt responsible for the other two._

_For the first time in hours she turned to him and her wet eyes struck him. "He is going to die," she whispered and he watched a tear trail her cheek._

_Sajul shook his head and moved his chair closer. "You don't know that, Arya. Look at all he has been through. He alone stood with the westerners and succeeded in saving us all from He Who Shall Not Be Named. You and I both know he can do great things. He will make it."_

_His words didn't convince her. He could see it in her eyes, dark eyes that mirrored Ardeth's. But even still she nodded and touched his hand. "Thank you for your friendship to us, Sajul. He loves you as a brother, you know."_

_Sajul drew her close and kissed her forehead, sharing in her grief. "I know," he told her gently, looking down at her brother as he held her. "I know."_

_Midnight came and passed without incident. There had been no sign of the raiders, though they had learned the name of Ardeth's attacker. One of the young men reported seeing Ardeth fight a large man with a deep voice, who identified himself as 'Lock-Nah'. Tonight Sajul and a few of the men would go looking for this Lock-Nah. They would cut him open and leave him to die._

_Arya had no knowledge of this, of course. She would forbid such savage vengeance that endangered them. She was a smart woman. Sajul eased himself up from his chair to leave, watching her watch her brother, but before he stood a sound came from Ardeth. A few small breaths, then a slowing. Arya hissed, "Abdullah!"_

_The healer had returned a little after midnight and stood in wait with them. At her call he came forward and pressed his fingers into Ardeth's throat. His head bowed when he drew them slowly away. _

_Abdullah crouched down and looked up. Arya gazed back with wet, pleading eyes and Sajul turned his to Ardeth. He was still breathing, but it seemed shallower, slower. He didn't need to hear the healer say, "He is dying, Arya. Ardeth is suffering right now and God is calling him. Do you understand this, child?"_

_"Yes," she whimpered softly and the healer stood. He left the tent without words, giving them privacy to make their good-byes. Sajul watched her grasp her brother's hand gently and kiss it. He almost didn't want to listen to her speak to him. Arya said only one thing to her brother, but that was enough and Sajul found his tears spilling over when she breathed, "I love you." Arya leaned over her brother, pillowing her head on his shoulder as she held him._

_He couldn't say anything, not even good-bye. How could he? How could this be? He had so much to say, but couldn't bring a word of it to his lips. Too many memories were flooding into him right now, too many questions and wishes. Yet he could not leave his friend to die, not without being right there with him. Sajul pulled himself from the darkness and knelt down beside the bed, taking Ardeth's hand. "My friend," he whispered, bowing his head and closing his eyes. He did not want to see it happen. He didn't want to feel it happen, but he wanted his friend to know he was here._

_They sat that way for some time before Sajul found a hand on his back. Arya pulled herself from her brother's body and got down on her knees beside the bed, drawing him back. "He's gone," she told him with tears in her eyes and no other words were needed. They fell into each other's arms and grieved. All Sajul could think of was her trembling voice, echoing that announcement through his mind. He's gone. He's gone._

_This was wrong._

He stared again at that face, but this time was different. Ardeth lay as still as he had that horrible night, but looked much worse. A part of him mourned it, in truth. Something inside remembered. But another part, more dark and cruel and powerful, that part laughed at this vision before him. Laughed and seethed. Necromancer stretched out his hands towards his former friend, twisting his bony fingers as though he meant to attack.

A feeling in the distance stopped him and his hooded head turned to listen. With a screech Necromancer fled the scene in a flurry of black robes. Now was not the time.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and Arya (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Er, see below. And I know…I know you prolly are all wondering what's gonna happen to Ardeth…and I worked so hard to delay that knowledge for another chapter after the last one. ;-) Muahahahaha. Hence Neccy's lil flashback. Hey, well I know **Lula** was interested in what had happened after Ardeth's fatal kick to the head…so here yar, my friend! :-D

**Explanation**: Hmmm. I'll prolly end up adding this note to the end of the next chapter (see, I know myself), but I want to point out to Marxie and all others wondering, I know Rick didn't "all out" betray him, which was why I put "unwittingly betrays" in the ah, teaser. :) No, Rick didn't technically betray him...but that doesn't mean certain other people might take it that way, seeing as Rick didn't even check to see if he were alive. If he had, I have no doubt he would have done something to save them both, or at least remain until he felt it was okay to leave. The object was to make Ardeth feel alone...that Rick didn't care to check on him because of his feelings concerning Evy.

So, was it a technical all out betrayal? No. Necromancer isn't exactly bubbling over with pure truth...he may twist things to hurt Ardeth, because he has insights into the future. The way he says something one way may totally color what really happens in a different way. :)

**To Reviewers**:

**Dee** – 4th time!? Wow! I'm extremely flattered! :-D Thanks very much! I'm glad you're enjoying this…and yes, I adore Ardeth/Evy as a pairing. :-D Too bad there aren't more out there! I don't 'spose you have any?? :-)

**Mommints** – Er…hate me? *gulp* Um…now if you're gonna send someone to kill me, at least give me a romp with Viggo Mortensen…he might do it if he's told it's my first and last time. ;-D He's reallllllllly sweet that way, I'm sure. Lol. Anyhoo, sowwy about Ardeth…I know I know. But ah…well…the story's a longun. ;-)

**Marcher** – I sure as heck aren't resurrecting Ardeth again. ;-) Thanks much for the compliment on the story…I think this is my fav as far as writing goes, so it's nice to hear that. :-)

**Ruse** - NEVER review your own stories, twit! UNLESS it's that Lord of the Rings story you're writing…that you can review if only for the sake of drooling over Elrond and Aragorn and Celeborn and Haldir and…and… :-D

**Marx** – Well, most of what I wanted to address I did in the review I left myself, but I've posted it up there just in case people didn't see. :-) Doh! Now I feel silly. ;-) But er, it's for a reason. Thanks! :-)

**Serena** – Thanks for the review! I can't help being cruel to Ardeth…it vents real life frustrations…muahaha! ;-) JK. Thanks for the review…I'm so glad you like it still!

**Deana** – Lol…sliced and diced. When I read that I heard Matthew Lillard in my head…he says that real funny in Scream. Lol. ;-) Poor Ardeth…he can't keep whole. Lol. Thanks, my friend!!__


	16. Looking Down On Me

**Speak Softly**  
Looking Down On Me

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The sand felt warm as he lay there. That, he could feel. That and the pain, but he was used to that by now. No, it was the wan sunlight bleeding through Eternal Sorrow that caught his attention; warm, cozy and filled with life. Not that he could see it clearly, for he had not the strength to open his eyes, but even behind tired lids he could sense the sickly daylight.

Somewhere he could hear Rick talking, saying something about leaving. Something…but he couldn't tell. Ardeth knew the truth, though. That voice quite possibly might not even really be here. He had been awake last night, somewhere beyond the pain, and had heard his friend's voice vaguely then too. But Rick hadn't checked on him, hadn't tried to ease his suffering, and hadn't even touched him. He had taken Jonathan, though. Somewhere Ardeth had gotten that idea, though right now he couldn't bring up the conversation that lead him to believe that. He only knew they had chosen to leave him in this lonesome suffering. Not that he could place much blame, for he was beyond help in this condition, but a small place inside had been hurt that not even a comforting word had been offered. Could Rick truly hate him so?

Aside from the pain there was also a tingle, which he guessed came from not moving. Maybe it came from death or something else. He couldn't really concentrate long enough to come to a logical conclusion. Being awake was like hell. He wanted to slip back into blissful unconsciousness.

Not that his sleep was that enticing. He was plagued with nightmarish visions of his attack, of Evy being hurt and death and destruction. Now that he could really think and recall it, his body ached during his dream moments as well. He had suffered enough, he knew, to make it inescapable.

Was this what it had been like during those missing hours between Lock-Nah's kick and his death? It certainly felt like it could be something like that. He couldn't move—at least not enough to be considered moving. He could swear his fingers had twitched a little and maybe, just maybe his foot, but did it really matter?

Another sensation had become apparent some time ago, one that had disturbed him. Amidst the aching he could feel an itchy feeling, sticky and wet. What disturbed him was the fact that he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Was it blood or sweat? He knew his blood had dried in some places, had felt the stiffness of his sliced up fingers when he moved them, but he just couldn't tell.

His body felt heavy right now and his dry throat stung whenever he swallowed, but he could not stop himself from trying. It was foolish, he knew. He would be dead any minute now and it wouldn't matter. Then again every time he got drowsy he expected death and was a little put off each time he woke up. Why was life playing these games with him? No one knew to look for him out here, no one cared to. Rick certainly didn't and Evy had assumed him dead even before he escaped. There wasn't going to be a rescue, so why bother letting him live? This was ridiculous. His body was being unfair by not shutting down. Even in this state life was echoing all around him, he could feel it. Maybe that's what kept him alive overdue.

Ardeth had never dreamed he would ever be lying out in the desert with grievous, deadly wounds that took his breath away, half-dizzy and unable to think straight, awaiting death like it would never come. Yet here he was. Inwardly it frightened and saddened him, but the pain blotted all emotion out. He was forgetting how to feel with his heart because all he could think about was the physical.

He decided to make another attempt at moving. Bay had no hopes of mustering enough strength to drag himself miraculously to safety, but at least a challenge gave him something to keep his mind from concentrating too heavily on his circumstances. He just couldn't think clearly enough to examine his life one last time and he had already done enough of that last night, anyway. He knew it was bad enough out there to accept this. After Rick had left Ardeth's only other thought had been for Evy and what his leaving would mean to her. But he couldn't do anything about it. He wanted to survive this for her alone, but couldn't.

His cut fingers brushed against the sand sending torrents of stinging through his senses. He even lifted his hand for a second and counted it an accomplishment. If he could only open his eyes. That he was lucid enough to realize. He wanted to see the sky before dying, to wish his world farewell like he couldn't last time.

Ardeth concentrated and pushed the pain away as much as he could. He managed to get them open for a second, a very brief flash of gray, but had to close them again because of the pain. He exhaled and let it be. It was time to sleep anyway. He could feel his weary body winding down again. His time was growing shorter. The last time he had managed wakefulness for at least fifteen minutes. This time had only been seven or so. Maybe this time sleep would bring him death.

~~~~~~~

Evy exhaled softly, gazing out her window through tired eyes. She had cried her last drop about an hour ago and now there was only numbness left. Imhotep had stopped trying to comfort her and for that she was very thankful. She was getting tired of his touching, his petting and whispering. Right now Evy needed the one thing she couldn't have in this cramped car—solitude.

The priest was now staring out his own window with impatient, frustrated eyes. She wasn't sure whether to feel bad for turning away his attempts or to lecture him on even thinking she would want his pity. Just what did he expect, anyway? He saw her as the same girl he had known so long ago, but she did _not_ see him as High Priest Imhotep, friend and teacher. He was Pharaoh. Evy gave him a sidelong glance and he caught her with a grunt before turning his eyes back towards the view outside.

She sighed and leaned her head back on the seat, wondering when they would stop for the night. It would be dinnertime soon and while Imhotep rarely ate, he always made sure she was served a healthy and pleasing array of dishes. He wouldn't want his slave wasting away and dying on him. Evy shook her head and looked outside.

It had not rained today and that was a blessing. The day had been nice and warm, a day Jonathan would have been thankful for if he had been working on that abomination of a statue. She leaned her forehead against the glass and smiled, remembering how he would complain about having to work in the rain. Imhotep was nothing if not insistent that his wishes be carried out.

She smirked and rolled her dark eyes, then paused. Something in the distance caught her attention and for the first time since morning she spoke to her master. "Imhotep, look. There's something out there. Do you know what it is?"

The king scooted closer and peered out her window with knitted brows. "I am not sure. Possibly some desert raiders, dead in their foolishness." His eyes appeared interested despite his laid back answer, however.

Evy bit her bottom lip and continued her gaze, wondering what it was. Her heart was in her throat. "Is that my brother?" she asked softly, praying for once Imhotep would be honest.

Imhotep frowned at her, but softened his expression at her pleading eyes. "I do not know, Nefertiri. I was told no more than what you heard. If you would like, I can send some of the jackals to see and if it is…" He stopped at her loud sigh and annoyed expression. She most certainly did _not_ want those beasts handling her brother. In a soft tone Imhotep said, "What would you have me do?"

Just how much could she get away with? That was the first thing on her mind. Evy wanted to see what was out there for herself, see what had been done to Jonathan. But would Imhotep let her? She looked him over and decided to ask it. "I want to see what's out there." He didn't like the idea.

Inclining his chin, the priest looked down on her through measuring eyes. Evy wondered what the big deal was. Why did he have to control every little move she made? "I will look," he told her, then put a hand on her bare shoulder to forestall the coming arguments. "I do not wish you to lay eyes upon your brother if he is gravely injured. Is it so terrible a thing for me to want to spare you that?"

"No," she replied, lowering her head slightly. "But it is something I feel I should see."

Imhotep commanded their driver head towards the darkness in the sand, shaking his head. When the car finally stopped some fifteen feet away, he opened his door. Evy grasped the handle on hers, but he shot her a stern look. "I said I would look, Nefertiri. If it is something that your eyes should see I will call you. The choice is mine." His door slammed shut.

She turned back, seeing what was out there for what it was. There were about ten of them, give or take. She couldn't make out any faces yet, but instantly she knew they weren't from one of the dangerous factions warring with Imhotep. These men had beat up clothing and appeared poor. She watched him examine a few bodies, then took interest when he stopped and stared down at one in particular. Well, like it or not, she was going to see for herself.

Evy opened her door and got out, and Imhotep turned with angry eyes. "Get back in that car!" he shouted, but she paid him no attention. He came to her, taking her wrists in his hands tightly and gave her the command again with a meaningful squeeze. It was Jonathan. It had to be. She wasn't going to let this monster deprive her of seeing him, no matter what shape he was in. Evelyn pulled herself free and raced away, then stopped in front of the body he had been examining.

Her heart pounded when she looked down and her eyes widened. "Ardeth," she whispered, looking over his battered form. He looked so hurt, so horribly injured. "Oh my God, Ardeth."

Imhotep stormed towards them and pulled her into his arms with fury written across his features. Without saying a word he slapped her hard, causing her to fall to the sand. She raised a shaking hand to her stinging cheek and looked up at him with cold eyes. "This is what you wanted to hide from me? You liar! You told me he was dead and then asked me to marry you! Well, you have your answer! Never!" Letting tears wet her face again, Evy crawled away from Imhotep to where Ardeth lay.

Tucking her hair behind an ear, Evy leaned over him and ignored whatever Imhotep was doing. She didn't care. After everything this was a low blow. Were these the dangerous raiders that had snuck into the palace and spirited her brother away? Of course. That was why Imhotep had knocked her out. Everything fell into place. And Imhotep had sent jackals out to kill those who had kidnapped Jonathan. It was the priest that had killed Jonathan. She glared up at him in her hatred and hissed, "You find my brother! Give me that at least, that he and Ardeth may be buried properly!"

He gazed down on her through unreadable eyes, but silently did as she commanded. If he thought that was going to ease him into her good graces then he had another thing coming. Evy sniffled and turned back to Ardeth, wishing she could have at least said goodbye. She could, she realized, though he would never be able to enjoy it. With tears streaming down her cheeks Evy let her hands fall to the sand above his blood-drenched shoulders and lowered herself. Her lips pressed softly into his and for a moment she knew nothing but the pain of her loss.

But it became apparent soon enough. Evy froze and waited, thinking herself delusional. Her spirits lifted and her heart sank when she felt his soft breath on her mouth. Ardeth was alive. He suffered with these terrible wounds, but he was alive. She looked up when a shadow covered them. Imhotep had returned and his face was neutral. "Your brother is not here," he told her, then nudged Ardeth's limp foot with his.

The movement jarred him and Evy looked down, praying he wouldn't make a sound. It was quite possibly better to let him die here than let Imhotep torment him further. But Ardeth betrayed himself with a groan and a flutter of eyelashes. Imhotep exhaled sharply above and crossed his arms. "You have your own secrets, Princess," he observed with cool eyes.

Immediately Evy was up on her knees below him as if to pray for his mercy. "Please," she pleaded softly, grasping his pant leg with her hands and resting her cheek against his thigh. It sickened her to do, but he liked these demonstrations of submission. "Imhotep, I don't know what I could possibly do to win your mercy, but please don't hurt him. I'll do anything."

Imhotep pushed her away with his leg and stared at the face of his enemy. Sitting back on the sand, Evy watched emotions flit across her master's face. He was afraid, she could tell, but uncertain about what to do with this opportunity. Ardeth could not cause him any harm in this state. Imhotep furrowed his brow and looked down to her. "You are asking my mercy, when moments ago you denied me your hand?"

Evy felt a cold rush of anger at herself and life move through her. In a moment of pride she might have caused Ardeth more pain. "There's nothing I can say," she whispered, bowing her head and playing off his pitying sense of superiority.

He looked between them with considering eyes, then crouched before her. Imhotep's hand grasped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. "I will think about your request, Nefertiri. I will think long and hard. You want me to be a merciful man and sometimes just the vision of your face compels me to such, but this time I find it difficult. Pray for him, Nefertiri, for right now I am very uncertain."

Trembling in his grasp Evy nodded, thankful that for now he wasn't going to do anything to worsen Ardeth's condition. The priest let her go and stood up, calling to his attendants harshly, "We make camp here tonight! Make a tent for this treasonous criminal while I consider his fate!" His servants were quick to obey.

Evy looked away when Imhotep again gazed upon her. Now she had to think and do as he said—pray.

~~~~~~~

Ardeth slept soundly on the cot they had placed him on. His condition would neither worsen nor improve. Imhotep had made certain of that. The Med-Jai was now tied to the priest's life, which would suspend him indefinitely in this suffering. It kept him alive.

Evy stayed by his side, marveling that Imhotep even allowed it. The priest was avoiding her even and she wondered if he would command her to sleep in his tent tonight. She fervently hoped not. If she could manage, she would stay by Ardeth's side all night. He had not given any sign of consciousness for some time, not since she had seen his fist tighten when the attendants picked him up, but she held onto that little sign. He was not in a coma and that was something to be thankful for.

Of course being surrounded by Imhotep's guard, not to mention Imhotep himself, didn't lend to hopeful thoughts. They couldn't escape this and Imhotep would never let him go. Evy couldn't guess what Ardeth's best hope for mercy was. Perhaps it was a quick death. She would try to provide that if her master denied it.

A lock of dark hair rested upon his cheek and Evy sniffled, brushing it away. She wanted to touch him, to hold his hand and kiss it, but it would cause him pain. She had never seen so many cuts on one person. Those jackals were brutal and she wished death upon every single one of them for this. He looked so broken and again the guilt for returning him to life rushed back into her. What had she done to him? This was her fault. Yet he would never see it that way. He would not blame her for this.

Evy leaned close to him, watching his face while he slept. He did not look peaceful. Occasionally his brow would furrow and his breathing would deepen due to nightmares, Evy guessed. Sometimes if a part of her body hurt when she went to bed it would visit her in her dreams. She shuddered to think about what he might be dreaming if that were the case with him.

His nightmares jarred him awake and suddenly he was looking at her through heavy lids. "Evy?" he whispered, then groaned low.

Trying to reassure him, she smiled gently and replied, "Yes, Ardeth. It's me. I know you're hurting, but it won't be long."

Ardeth blinked, but watched her steadily and she could see different things within those dark eyes of his. Relief, hope, sadness, fear. She wanted so desperately to tell him he would be okay, but it would be a lie.

He swallowed and winced, then said, "How…did I arrive here?" His voice was soft and weak, and it pained Evy to hear.

She looked him over and brushed her fingers over his hairline, causing him to close his eyes in enjoyment of that small comfort. They sparkled in thanks when he looked back. It made her eyes moisten, but she didn't turn away and kept rubbing. "We found you. Imhotep and I were traveling and we found you lying out there. We've made camp for the night."

There was a small betrayal of fear in his expression, but he remained strong. "What will he do?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, unable to control the shake in her voice. Evy ran her fingers through his hair and let a few tears spill over. "I asked him for mercy, Ardeth and he's considering it." He closed his eyes at that, remaining silent. They both knew how far Imhotep's mercy went. "He tied you into his life force, meaning you won't die until he allows it. I…I wish things could be different for you."

Ardeth swallowed and opened his eyes again to look over her face. She saw him lift his hand to touch her, but knew it would hurt him if she took it. He dropped it and sighed. "I wish things could be different for _you_." Evy looked away, feeling a little unworthy of that statement in the face of what he had gone through and what may yet happen when Imhotep decided what he wanted to do with his enemy. She should have let him have his peace.

His fingers moved again towards her and this time she did not let him down, brushing the tips of hers against his gently. For the second time in their friendship she was facing him after death, or so it had seemed this time. How was she ever going to face losing him again? She had already lost so much, but Ardeth deserved to get out of this if Imhotep would let him. Yet somewhere inside Evy wanted her friend to stay. But if Imhotep chose to let him live it would mean more suffering than even these terrible wounds. Where was irony when you needed it?

~~~~~~~

Imhotep frowned as he sat alone with his thoughts for likely the duration of night, for he knew Nefertiri was with Ardeth Bay. Folding his hands together, the king gazed at the tent walls as he pondered over what to do about this little situation. Of course if it weren't for Nefertiri this Med-Jai would be dead, but could he not use this to his advantage somehow? It seethed inside that Bay had escaped death. The jackals that had lead the attack would have to be put to death now.

The priest leaned back in the folded chair they had brought for him to sit in. Bay was in no position to cause him trouble—that was certain. Though they had failed to kill him, his servants had quite thoroughly harmed him. If he were to offer this man mercy perhaps it would cause Nefertiri to be more agreeable about the marriage. If he knew the minds of lovers at all, Imhotep surmised that would begin to break the Med-Jai's heart as it would have broken O'Connell's. Right now he needed to get beneath the skin of his opponents and even if Bay were killed that left O'Connell. As surely as Jonathan had not been among the dead, so it was with his other mortal enemy. They had all three escaped death from those who were supposed to be mighty. Imhotep clenched his fists.

Marriage to Nefertiri had tactical reasons, among his more personal reasons of conquering her spirit, but would granting this man mercy be worth the end result? She would never fall to his seductions if he were to kill her lover. He had many things to consider and not enough time in which to do so.

A shadow crossed the entrance to his tent, lit by the torches outside. No, there were two of them. "Lord Imhotep," one of his attendants called meekly.

"You may enter," the priest granted with an outward breath. He waited.

A young man entered and bowed, visibly nervous about confronting his king. This likely meant bad news and if it had anything to do with Nefertiri running away he was going to kill someone. Likely the young man before him. "My Lord, you have a visitor. W-we don't know where he came from, Majesty, but he insists on seeing you. He s-says it has to do with Ardeth Bay, Majesty."

This caught his interest. Who would possibly commit suicide in order to speak with him about his enemy? Imhotep waved his hand and said, "Bring him in."

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and Arya (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**:

**To Reviewers**:

**Deana** – Thanks! ;-) Yeah…poor Ardeth…he's a pin cushion. Heh heh heh. :O Redrum redrum. ;-D

**Lula** – Hey! Thanks for returning! :-) Nice to know you're around. You never asked what you thought I was going to do. ;-) I'm curious to know what you thought or still think, even…if I haven't covered it in this chapter. ;-) Well, now you know I didn't exactly kill Ardeth. ;-D I'm glad you liked the flashback. :-) Thanks for the compliments and reading! How is **Endless** coming?

**Marx** – Heyas! I'm pleased you're liking Ricky and Jonny still…I enjoy writing them! As for the book, yeah…it'll come up. Actually, I had forgotten about it…but I have you to thank for giving me some dialog later on about the book. Thanks!

**Elizabeth** – Thanks! :-D Gay? *sniff* What a shame for girls like me who would like to… ;-) Glad you're enjoying! And yes, the cast is HOT in that movie…especially that Grima…;-D Lol…shyeah. My aunt laughs every time he comes out on screen, saying he reminds her of Ozzy Osbourne. But what irks me is she calls Elrond "The Grinch". ;-) Oye.

**Marcher** – Hehehe…god knows I have to kill Ardeth as often as humanly possible. ;-) I like writing a ticked off Rickybug and yeah…things are looking kinda down for Evy, huh? Oye. Poor girl, losing everyone. Well, at least now she's gained again. :-D 


	17. The Curse

**Speak Softly**  
The Curse

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The man bowed, then scurried from the tent to obey. The priest heard him bid entry to whoever waited outside. The tent opened again and a robed figure came before him. He pushed his hood back and gave Imhotep a disdainful glare. "Are you such a fool that you thought you could kill Ardeth Bay?"

Imhotep said nothing and did not change his expression. He merely leaned forward and sized up the creature before him. This was the Med-Jai he had cursed and twisted for his love of Ardeth Bay. The Med-Jai that had returned to life with more power than Imhotep had intended, who had not become docile as most dead things did, but stronger and with more hatred than even he himself bore for life. What he was, the king did not know, but he was not to be underestimated. "Necromancer, I see you were among those who escaped. Tell me, does the outside greet you well?" He knew this dead thing well, knew it had been nearly a brother to his enemy. Somehow it did not surprise him to see it out and about.

Necromancer hissed at his little jest about the light of life above and Imhotep smiled, knowing full well how terrible it would be to this thing's eyes. The creature wrung its hands, but held itself in check. It wanted something. "You are far too arrogant, Master of the Dead. Far too arrogant. I would let you blunder through your mistakes without a word if it would not hinder my own agenda. Do you even stop to consider why Ardeth Bay is alive after so savage an attack?"

Crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, Imhotep replied, "It was merely the failure of my servants—a mistake that will be punished severely. Is that not plain enough an answer, or will you bring my blind arrogance into the explanation?"

"You would know the answer if you weren't so blind," the creature remarked almost wearily. He hissed and rasped in thought, then crooked a finger at Imhotep. "You know so little for a man of your position. Do you not realize there is only one thing that can end the life of Ardeth Bay? Do you not comprehend that every attempt you make will end in failure? I promise you that there will always be some accident, some reason he will not fall."

Imhotep wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe such a thing. This being possessed knowledge of the gods that even he was not privy to. Yet Bay had survived the jackals… The priest cocked his head. "I am listening, Necromancer. Tell me why Ardeth Bay lives."

A smirk of self-satisfaction crossed its face as Necromancer rubbed his hands together compulsively. "Because he is touched of eternity, Imhotep. He is marked by Heaven and chosen. He has a task before him and the power to remain long enough to see it through. There is nothing that may come against him and end his life. Not even you, Master of the Dead."

Imhotep frowned. "You said there was in fact a thing that could kill him, if I am not mistaken. What is your trick, creature?"

"No trick," Necromancer rasped coolly. His dead eyes stared the High Priest of Osiris down, unblinking and filled with rage. This creature would do Imhotep no favors, none that did not meet his own needs. "One thing may kill him, Priest. He may die of his own hand if he can be broken to that level of despair."

"Say these things are true, Necromancer. What are you suggesting?" he asked warily, listening absently to voices outside. His jackals could end this foul creature's life with but a word.

"There is an artifact imbued with the power to destroy lives. I want it." The creature flexed its hands needfully. Narrowing his brow, Imhotep glared up at this wretched example of what once was life, knowing of that which he spoke. This thing wanted it, but for what purpose? The Staff of Osiris that had brought death to the Scorpion King. It could bring death to himself if coupled with the power of the Book of Amun Ra, and strip him of being bound to this earth—preventing resurrection. Imhotep suddenly felt a little more on-guard and Necromancer smiled in dark amusement.

The creature came forward slightly with manipulating pleasantness, his hands rubbing together again. "Have mercy upon Ardeth Bay, Master. Tell your concubine she may buy his life by agreeing to marry you. I know the games you have played with her heart, so it may not be far from the truth that you would free him to gain her. After all, what can he do to you, the great Imhotep?" Necromancer spat the last, but did not recoil his pleading.

"Free him," Imhotep repeated thoughtfully. He shook his head. "Why would I do that?"

The dead Med-Jai snarled deep within its throat at being questioned. Imhotep was no fool. He knew Necromancer had his own interests at heart. "Because, Priest, if you free him Nefertiri will agree to marry you. Do you think that knowledge will not eat away at the heart of the Chosen? It will burden his heart, no matter how he tries to stop it. Let him go with that knowledge, that I might lead him to the staff. Along the way I will poison his mind and drag him to despair. He will end his own life by that pain or the pain I know others may use to cage him. I will give him to the ones beneath the temple if he survives his sorrow. They will cause his suicide if not I. You know this."

He would be in danger if he chose this path. Imhotep knew exactly why Necromancer wanted the staff—to kill the Master of the Dead and end his suffering. Yet the creature would have to attain also the Book of Amun Ra, or his little scheme would not work. The question was, did he know where the Book was? Necromancer could steal memories from mortals, but not from Imhotep—yet the creature could determine his emotions and intentions. That alone was enough to keep himself well guarded against this thing. "You seek the staff for yourself that you may kill me, but will you truly end the life of Ardeth Bay as well?"

Necromancer hissed in a moist breath and nodded. "I will lie to you not, Master of the Dead. You may feel the truth in my words if you listen. As surely as I hate you, so do I hate him! My reasons for that are my own, but I promise that I have no love for his life. Will you take the chance of my having possession of the staff to kill him? Is his death by his own hands rather than yours worth that?"

Looking away from Necromancer, Imhotep thought about this little opportunity presented him. He shared empathy with this creature and as Necromancer could discern his own emotions, so Imhotep could of he. Necromancer spoke the truth. He did want Ardeth Bay dead—quite nearly as much as he wanted to kill his master. Yet Imhotep was not certain it was worth the result. "Leave this place tonight, Necromancer. If I decide it will be by morning, and then shall Ardeth Bay enter the desert alone. If he does not by midday, I have decided against your proposal."

"Yes, Master of the Dead," the creature intoned with a mocking bow. He smiled, showing his dreadfully sharp teeth and turned away. "I will be waiting."

Imhotep watched him leave with a little more anxiety than when he had arrived. Now his choices were harder. Yet what could Necromancer do? He would never find the Book of Amun Ra and even if he did, he could never attain it alone.

With a deep breath the priest stood up and exited his tent. Perhaps he would find his answer in the face of his enemy.

~~~~~~~

Evy awoke to a hand on her shoulder. Her dark eyes fluttered open and rested upon Ardeth, who lay sleeping once more. She swallowed and turned. "I wish to speak with you," Imhotep told her in soft tones and she thought it strange he did not want to disturb his enemy.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Evy nodded and stood up with one last glace at her sleeping friend. The priest opened the tent and waited, and as she stepped out she watched two young men with wooden posts enter. Her eyes widened in fear and her head whipped around to look at the priest. "What are you going to do to him?"

His eyes betrayed nothing of his intentions as he took her by the arm and headed towards his tent. Imhotep ushered her in and looked her face over. "I must make my choice, Nefertiri. You will wait here until I return."

Evy shook her head and grabbed his wrist as he turned away, heedless of the danger that might come as a result. "What are you going to do to him, Imhotep? Please don't hurt him any more. If you must kill him, please give him mercy and do it fast. It's my fault he's here."

Imhotep touched her cheek, then turned away. "I only wish to speak with him, Nefertiri. I will learn from him why I should let him live. Remain here." He left without another word and Evelyn stared after him.

She couldn't imagine what was going on, but those two posts made her nervous. Ardeth could be tied between them and beaten or any number of other horrid things Imhotep could imagine, and Ardeth couldn't die because of the priest's link to him. She sat down on a small cot nearby, wrapping her arms around herself. Fear filled her as she imagined the terrible things that could happen. Why was Imhotep doing this? He could be so cruel when he wanted and it was those times that Evy forgot Nefertiri's feelings of friendship towards the priest.

~~~~~~~

Ardeth inhaled when Imhotep took Evelyn out of the tent. He had been conscious when the priest had come in and the minutes he had stayed silent, presumably studying either himself or Evy. Someone else entered and then Ardeth opened his eyes, seeing two human men inside his tent with wooden posts. They paid him no attention, so he was able to watch as they dug into the sand and placed the posts three feet apart down into the ground. He didn't need to ask what they were for.

So it would come to being tormented by Imhotep. Ardeth closed his eyes, preparing himself for the pain that would inevitably come. He did not wait long. The two men with him began uttering words of obedience to their king as he entered, then left at his dismissal. The priest took a breath and said, "You may stop your pretending, Ardeth Bay."

Seeing no reason to continue, Ardeth opened his eyes and saw Imhotep sitting where Evy had been. He looked strange wearing those modern clothes. "Do you mean to kill me?" Ardeth asked, brushing aside any attempt at civil conversation. He wanted this over and done.

Imhotep crossed his arms and appeared indecisive about it. "I may kill you, but that is not my intent right now."

"Torture, then," Bay assumed. All too quickly, he learned.

With a small smile, Imhotep shook his head and regarded his prisoner. "You assume you understand my mind, but you do not. So unbelievable to your mind is it that I would merely wish to speak with you."

The Med-Jai would have sneered if the pain and stiffness from dried blood on his face would not have prevented such an expression. Speak with him? Only to hurt him, he knew. Only to threaten. "And what would you speak of with me, Imhotep?"

Imhotep crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Why should I let you live? Tell me."

"Tell me this," Ardeth replied instead of giving in to the creature's want. Imhotep was playing some unknown game and he wasn't going to go along with it. "What answer could I possibly give that would see you allowing my life? I am no fool, Imhotep. You will kill me or torment me. That is your nature."

The question went unanswered for a moment. Imhotep looked down and remained silently in thought, but Ardeth could see through him. His play for pity would not find reward. "You are injured," he finally observed with neutral tones. Imhotep leaned closer. "I will ease your suffering."

Ardeth widened his eyes when Imhotep grabbed his wrists. Stinging pain shot through him from having his peeled and sliced skin gripped so tightly, and he groaned and writhed for all his failing strength was worth. Imhotep smirked at this and began chanting intently, watching his enemy suffer. Ardeth closed his eyes and fought for air, overcome with sensation.

He could feel it entering his body and pulling at him, drawing him away from true life. Tendrils of energy crept over him, soothing away the ache every single one of his slash marks produced, but with it he could feel the darkness of Imhotep's power saturating him. It was in some ways more painful than the knives that had pierced him and he fought against the priest. Imhotep ignored him and poured his life into his enemy. But even as strength flooded him, he felt something else—something he could only liken to his light being stolen.

When it was done Ardeth groaned and covered his face as if to hide from the dark. Imhotep's power came from evil purpose and the blackness of it seemed to infect every sensation just as life had when he had returned. His actions seemed to puzzle the priest, who asked what was wrong. He could not have that man's hands on him again. Ardeth sat up and shivered, holding his arms out to block further contact. "Don't touch me," he hissed, wishing he could somehow get the darkness off of him.

Imhotep was unimpressed and wrapped his fingers around Ardeth's tattered robe, jerking him off the cot and to the floor. Bay weakly tried to follow as the priest dragged him to the posts and bound his wrists with rope to each side. Once he was secured, Imhotep crouched to his eye level and looked him over again. "You are a very strange being, Ardeth Bay. I understand nothing of what you feel or why you are here, but know this. I tolerate you for the sake of Nefertiri, but even that has its extent. For her sake I urge you reconsider your intentions concerning me. Do not push me to act against you."

Ardeth glared, but said nothing as he fought for the air he breathed. His body tingled from the sudden changes, but at least moving didn't cause him intolerable pain anymore. Imhotep stood up and watched him for a moment, then left without another word. Ardeth pulled at the ropes around his wrists, but couldn't tear himself free.

He settled on his knees with his arms strung above him, wondering if he hadn't just been freed from the frying pan into the fire. Whatever Imhotep's little scheme was, Ardeth couldn't say, but even concern for his future couldn't hold his attention for very long. It was still around him, still blanketing him. He didn't know what the priest had done exactly, but it seemed to change him and he couldn't even say how. He only knew he didn't feel entirely himself.

Before he could examine his state more closely the tent flap opened and Evy rushed in, looking for him. She gasped when she saw him, then fell to her knees in front of him. "My god," she breathed, reaching out to run her fingers across his shoulder. "The cuts are gone. He really healed you."

Ardeth nodded tiredly and looked her over. He was thankful to see her again, whether it be one last time or not. She looked like a woman who carried much on her shoulders, but that made her no less beautiful to him. So beautiful and soothing. He had never felt so touched by love in his life before. Ardeth suddenly missed being close to her. "Evy," he breathed, sliding his eyes across her face. The darkness seemed to lessen. "I wanted to thank you."

Her familiar smile returned and she rolled her eyes, saying, "Oh good Lord, for what? This is…this could get bad before it gets better." The nervous catch made him sigh.

He shook his head and flexed his fingers to touch her, but the rope held him back. He had something to tell her before anything happened to separate them. She could never think he blamed her. "I wanted to thank you for showing me how loved I was. I knew on some level before 1929 that yes, people cared for me. That I was a part of something. But I never realized just how much I meant to my friends or just how much they and this world meant to me. You gave me that, Evelyn. It's worth what I may yet face and I don't want you to blame yourself."

Evy looked down and he knew that would be a tall order for her, but he did not wish for Imhotep to kill him without her knowing just what she had done. She had brought him back out of need and he could understand that, even if he may never be able to save her. His friend said nothing, but drew closer and wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back warmly in their embrace. After everything it felt so good to be touched, to be loved. Ardeth closed his eyes and rested his head against hers. Evy rubbed her cheek against his and sighed, "I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing," he replied softly, just enjoying this moment of quiet with her. He did not want her to leave him or let go. This moment could last forever as far as he was concerned.

She pulled away though and he mourned the loss of her hug. Her eyes were moist and luminous and her expression soft as she reached for his face. Ardeth brushed his cheek into her hand, wondering just what he was doing, letting his feelings escape him again. Yet if O'Connell already hated him, what did it matter? His brow furrowed as he reminded himself of exactly why it did matter. But whatever his feelings, her own curiosity was becoming clear. Her thumb traced his bottom lip and her eyes seemed to memorize every detail of his face. Ardeth pushed O'Connell aside and decided not to disturb this moment with mention of him. 

"I remember when I first saw you," she said in an amused tone, drawing her hand to his shoulder. She rubbed at the muscle there and smiled reflectively. "Do you remember that, Ardeth? You and your cohorts were frightening that night."

He laughed and looked her over, remembering that young woman who had not let so little a thing as the Med-Jai stop her from her curiosity. Those days seemed ages passed. "Obviously not frightening enough." Right now he could see that younger woman gazing back as she grinned.

"I was stubborn then," she replied to that, still exploring his shoulders and neck softly. He watched her hand travel to his bicep and she stopped there. "I must seem rather intrusive, touching you like I can't control myself or some such silliness. Honestly, what you must think of me." Her eyes became a little shy as if what they had shared did not give her permission to do these things to him. He was almost surprised to find he wanted her to still. Yet there wasn't any discomfort or shame. Just want of love. Her voice softened when she asked, "Did you…did you think of me?"

Ardeth rested his cheek against her hand and gazed at her through heavy lids, grateful for her silliness if that's what she deemed it. He did not deem it so. "I did think of you."

Evy smiled gently, but it quickly faded as she looked down. "I don't want to lose you again."

He felt so tired just now, peaceful enough with her presence to rest. "And I don't want to leave you," he told her as he closed his eyes. He took a breath and reopened them. "Did Imhotep tell you why he healed me?"

She shook her head and took her hand away, and his sigh made her expression regretful. He needed her soft light right now to help him, to prepare him for the darkness that would come—for one way or another it would. He could feel it. Evy hugged him again, sensing his need, and he shivered in her arms. He had never been so frightened of his future. Was this Imhotep's power clouding his mind, or something on the horizon that would swallow him in its evil? Evy whispered against his hair, "Don't be afraid."

"Stay here," he pleaded, loathing the thought of her leaving him alone. He needed only this night with her, just to feel her arms around him and her life radiating off of her, filling the emptiness. "Sleep in here for as long as Imhotep will allow it."

Evy tightened her embrace and he felt her nod against him. "I will. I'll stay right here with you."

Ardeth leaned into her in as much of a hug as tied arms would allow, and she pulled back slowly, staying close. Reassurance seemed to reflect in the dark depths of her eyes. It only took a second of that for him to lose the war between confusion, himself and O'Connell's jealousy. A stronger emotion moved him past those things and brought his mouth to hers to test the want between them. She returned it with as much uncertainty as he gave it and Ardeth laughed into her lips, causing her to smile.

"I do love you, Evy," he told her as she rubbed his shoulders, still so close he could feel her warmth. "If life could be different for us…" He didn't know what to tell her or what to even dream of trying for. This was not normal life where happiness could be taken at will. This was Imhotep's dark reality and to sink further into this bond with her could be dangerous.

She shut him up quite thoroughly with another kiss and he decided to forget his worries. Let the world fade into darkness. He had never known these feelings before now, never felt so interested in how far his heart could take him if he allowed it. He wanted to explore this now.

Evy again touched his cheek with a soft light in her eyes. "Are you tired?" she asked him, then looked at his bound wrists. "I wish I could let you down from there, but Imhotep would probably throw a fit."

Ardeth shrugged it off and smiled at her. "I'll be all right, Evy. Rest." His eyes traveled to the cot nearby, the bed that was stained with his blood. That was no place for her to sleep.

She didn't even look that way, though. Evy lowered herself to the sand beside him and curled up close, but not close enough. "I hate to lay down in front of you." she murmured through a yawn, looking up.

He shook his head and watched her eyes close, thinking how strange life was to bring them here to this moment. "Don't worry," he told her, thinking it far from him that he would mind this or let it bother him. She needed to sleep. He enjoyed being near her this way and wanted it to last. It wasn't long before her breathing became steady. He watched her for a time, letting her life remind him of what he was fighting for. It took away the darkness he had felt from Imhotep's spell.

It didn't last much beyond that. Sometime later the tent opened and the king came in. He stopped, seeing his concubine rested near his enemy with a hand that had wandered to his thigh, and shared a look with Ardeth. His thoughts were not betrayed in his shadowy eyes, but he did not appear angry as Ardeth surmised he would be. He said nothing and knelt down beside the sleeping Evy, shaking her with a hand on her arm. "Nefertiri," Imhotep said gently and she opened her eyes. "I must talk with you."

Evy sat up slowly, obviously shaking off the effects of entering sleep. She sighed and looked up reluctantly, but Ardeth shook his head. "I will see you tomorrow," he told her, hoping it would ease her mind about leaving him. Evelyn nodded once and took Imhotep's hand, standing with him.

They left, but not before Imhotep let his eyes rest once more on his captive. Ardeth could swear the priest looked troubled.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and Arya (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Wow…lotsa reviews…I musta done something right last chapter. ;-) All the relief in Ardeth being alive, eh? Thanks everyone! Made my day! :-)

And thanks to **Lula** for reading this chapter before posting and pointing out my silly typos. Arg, they are my bane! :-D And of course thanks to **Deana** who also reads sometimes and points them out!

**To Reviewers**:

**Deb** – Thanks for the email! We've already discussed pretty much everything, but I wanted to say thanks anyway on here cause you rock! And thanks for reviewing A Matter of When! :-) 

**Cackle** – Thanks! And thanks for reading Who We Once Were and reviewing! :-)

**Dawn** – Thank you muchly for saying that! :-O I'm glad you like it. :-)

**Raptor** – And thank you as well! It's always nice to see new faces and I'm happy that what I'm writing is being enjoyed!! :-D

**Marcher** – Hehehe. ;-) I wanted people to think him dead. Muahahaha. But I got a little wary that the ending of another story of mine would make people be like, "She did it again! I'll NEVER read her stories!" ;-) I'm glad it didn't… So was the visitor who you thought it would be? ;-) I'm glad you're enjoying this!! Thankie!

**Serena** – Wow, thanks! I'm glad you're liking this. As for Evy…well, she sorta saved him and now as you can see from Neccy's words, fate sort of stepped in as well. ;-) Poor Ardeth. Muahaha!

**Deana** – You sillious willious. ;-) Yes, Rick abandoning Ardeth IS freaking sad. ;-D Thanks!

**Lula** – Don't we all wanna hug him and hold him and squeeze him and pat him and call him George? ;-) hehehe…stepping out of Bugs Bunny mode. Very nice thoughts. ;-D Thanks muchly…I'm happy you're enjoying!

**Bunni** – Hehehe…thanks…I'm glad you thought that line was funny…after posting (cause that's usually when I do my proof-reading ;-) my eyes hit that line and I wondered if anyone would think that Immyish or not. ;-) I'm glad you enjoy!

**Mommints** – Lol, silly. ;-) I answer when I have something to answer to…from henceforth when I don't, I'll still mention you, saying, "**Mommints** – Where the crap are you??? :-O" ;-D Anyway, thanks for your kind words. I'm glad you're enjoying! It does make sense…poor Ardeth's in a nice little spot. Doh! Now to go check into your PM story…:-D

**Marxie** – Thank you so much! :-) Yeah, a nice Immy part here and there never hurts, eh? ;-D Mmmm. Yummy, yummy man. I'm heppy you're enjoying this, oh inspiration mine! Speaking of which, I can't wait for more **Hereafter**…though I'll be sad to see it done. *sniff*


	18. So High

**Speak Softly**  
So High

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evy crossed her arms and followed her master from Ardeth's tent. Imhotep was silent and unassuming right now and for that she was thankful, though she hated being torn away from Ardeth. He seemed so vulnerable, so afraid and he had reason to be. She wanted nothing more than to be with him right now. Imhotep entered his tent and she obediently followed after, as any slave should when her king had something on his mind.

The priest turned around and looked her up and down with unreadable eyes, but if she didn't know any better she would think he seemed bothered. Yet what could trouble a heart such as his? He held all the keys. "I have made a decision," he told her simply. Evy took a breath, knowing the expression he wore. He was at odds with something, either the consequences of his desires or hers.

She turned away from him, uncertain as to whether or not she truly wanted to hear this. The torments he would likely tell her about had no place in her mind. "Tell me simply, are you going to kill him?" she asked and each second between the question and the answer seemed a lifetime.

"No," Imhotep replied and she clenched her fist. He wasn't going to kill Ardeth, which meant there would likely be some sort of suffering down the line for her friend. And why shouldn't Imhotep want to enjoy making his hated enemy suffer?

Evy looked down at the sand beneath her feet and closed her eyes, praying Ardeth could stand up to whatever would face him. What could she do to help him? Her mind searched through every possible way she could buy his peace, but one could never tell what would work with Imhotep. All she could bring herself to say was, "Please don't hurt him. I'll do anything that you ask."

The king stayed silent a moment, then said softly, "Anything, Nefertiri?" His hand brushed over her shoulder.

Of course he would want something. Now it came to it. Just how far would she go to keep Ardeth safe? Evy turned back around and glared at Imhotep. "You know I'll do anything for him. What is it that you want?"

Instead of growing angry at her tone Imhotep examined his fingers thoughtfully, then met her gaze. "I have already decided to free him, my princess. You need not worry over a price." He said nothing else, his eyes downcast and passive.

At first Evy questioned whether or not she had heard right, then she questioned his sanity. None of Imhotep's gifts came without a price. He had some ulterior motive behind this and the question on her mind was; was it worth it? Was that motive to hurt Ardeth or herself? "Why would you let him go? Do you want to die?" she asked him and he frowned.

"Of course I do not wish to die, Nefertiri! I am letting him go because you desire it. I will not be ruled by fear of this man." His eyes traveled her over before he turned away in frustration. "He will be allowed to leave tomorrow morning and I will make no attempts on his life. This mercy will come but once. If ever he crosses me again I will end his life."

Evy watched him stand there, wondering what she would see in his eyes if she were to look right now. She didn't believe him, but a part of her wanted to. If she told Ardeth to walk away, to never return and try to find a life somewhere—would Imhotep truly leave him be? "What do you get out of this?"

Imhotep whipped around, but made no move to punish her. "You would think that, wouldn't you?" he hissed, crossing his arms. "I was a good man once, Nefertiri, who did things for others because I had the means. You wish me to ask a price for this? If that is so, then all I ask is that you reconsider your opinion of me."

"And if I don't?" she replied coolly. So this was it. It was aimed at hurting her, getting her to marry him probably, his price for her crying out against him so long ago. She was playing dangerously, though. If Imhotep grew angry with her he could easily decide against his sudden generosity.

His eyes grew distant, that strange bothered look resurfacing. He played so many mind games how could he expect her to see what was true or false? Whatever his reasons, he did not allow himself to grow vengeful yet. Ardeth was safe for now. "Then things will continue as they are. Your lover will be set free and I will treat you no worse. You may believe that or not. The choice is yours. Perhaps you will never remember who I was to you, or perhaps today is simply not the day."

Today was definitely not the day. Evy wanted to yell at him, wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of him. He most certainly was _not_ who he used to be, no matter what he was now. She wasn't who she was back then, or even two years ago. Still, if this small thing of marriage would help stay Imhotep's wrath she could give it. It was nothing. It meant nothing. "I'm sorry," she told him, not certain how to proceed without it sounding like she were buying Ardeth's freedom. But that's just what it was and he would know it. Evy sighed. "You want me to reconsider the marriage, Imhotep? Fine. I'll marry you. I'll do it if it will stop you from hurting my friends and hurting me. Ardeth's life means more to me than my freedom. You can't hide the fact that I'm a slave simply by offering me a title, but if it will change anything between us, then I'll do it." He didn't look happy with her words, but it was the best she could offer. Unlike him she wanted to be honest about her reasons.

"Then it is done," he said with a note of finality that made her shiver. He came forward and rested his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently. She could feel the heat of his body, so near and warm as his eyes asked understanding. "Let this be a beginning of peace between us, Nefertiri. I meant it when I said you did not deserve to be a whore. I make this gift to you in great risk, but I do because I want peace." He pulled her closer and as his mouth pressed into hers she was tempted to move away from the blatant desire in such a kiss, but she couldn't. His eyes asked too much of her, asked her to believe him. When her lips were freed, she gasped for breath as seeking hands swept through her hair. He was going to keep her here, make her lay with him. Evy shivered in want of getting away.

She was wrong. Imhotep kept her close, but made no demands. "You may spend the night in the tent of your Med-Jai. Say goodbye and tell him the terms of his freedom. Encourage him to forget me and forget you, for if he returns to fight then I will be forced to retaliate. That is something you do not want and it is not my wish to put you through that. The same offer will be made to O'Connell if he returns, but I give your brother leave to stay once more in my home for as long as he pledges his life to my crown."

Evy widened her eyes a little and felt her pulse quicken. "O'Connell? He…I thought he was…dead." Rick was alive? She swallowed hard as her eyes moistened. A million questions rushed through her mind and chills spread through her. She hadn't known. Hadn't had the faintest clue. Had Jonathan known? What did this mean for her…for her and Ardeth?

Imhotep shook his head nonchalantly, going on as if her thoughts weren't a mess. "He lives, I am sure of it. He, your brother and your lover escaped the palace the other night. Neither of the other two were among the dead where we found Ardeth Bay. I can only assume they live." How could he have remained alive so long and her not know it? Why? She had been lead to believe he had been killed, though it hardly surprised her that it had been a lie. In her doubt of Ardeth's death it had totally escaped her to question Rick's own. Evy looked at the priest before her, who waved his hand to forestall any arguments. "The past is the past, Nefertiri. I lied and am sorry for hurting you. Go to your lover and be with him. Tell him he is free tomorrow."

Reeling from the shock of everything this man was revealing to her, Evy nodded without a fight. He watched her with gentle eyes, eyes that seemed almost honestly sorry and it made her ache inside. She was beginning to hate Nefertiri for knowing him differently. There were too many lies for her to believe this was out of some sense of concern for her, no matter how much that princess inside wanted to believe it. He looked down when she took a step towards the exit and she stopped. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I pray it's for a good reason, Imhotep." His eyes raced up to meet hers as if her words had been a curse.

Out of her weariness of fighting him she decided to do something in good faith, something to show him she could allow peace. Evy moved again to stand before her king and with trembling hands, she leaned against him, offering him a kiss and whispering, "Thank you." She prayed this would not encourage his lust into keeping her here tonight.

It didn't. Imhotep's eyes widened and for a moment he stilled, but her soft expression made his limbs find will to move. He took her hands from his shoulders and shoved her towards the exit, his tone growing cold again. "Leave," he told her and she obeyed.

The night outside was dark and oppressive, moonless and black—almost as lonely as she felt suddenly. Walking in the darkness towards the tent where Ardeth was being kept, Evy puzzled through the priest's actions. Another mind game? What on earth did he want of her? One moment he wanted her to willingly marry him and when she finally offered her own truce, he repaid it with anger. The shove hadn't been particularly threatening, certainly not as threatening as she had experienced from him before, but that didn't make her feel any more encouraged.

And Rick? The shock from that revelation still swept through her, shaking her to her core. The last good-bye had been a kiss, then the icy chill of knowing he was gone. Imhotep claimed to have bested him on the battlefield with the Med-Jai and while she hadn't seen his body among those strung up at the Field of the Med-Jai, she had assumed he was somewhere out there amongst those she couldn't see. For two years she had mourned this loss and accepted it. And now that too was a lie. What would he think if he knew what had happened? Would he expect to return to her open arms, only to find she had given Ardeth the promise she had made—that same promise Imhotep had stolen?

Her mind was transported back to a time when O'Connell had been the romance of her life and Ardeth was just Ardeth. She had always known their Med-Jai friend was very handsome and would make a woman very happy one day, but back then Evy had never imagined that woman would be her. She had thought Rick was her one and only. She had thought Rick would take her past those first steps of companionship and show her what more she could have with a man.

But Rick hadn't. Oddly enough he had wanted to do things the proper way, which had totally shocked her, seeing as how she had always assumed he was the type that generally experienced with his girlfriends those things proper ladies waited until marriage to give. But he had told her she was worth waiting for, that when he could get a proper job and raise the money, they would get married and then he would show her those soft, sweet things that gentlemen didn't talk about. So they waited. Then they broke up.

Neither married and she had never given her promise to another man, feeling that if Rick could bring himself to wait, so could the man she did finally settle down with. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way. The man who did take it away from her had been ravaged by grief and forced into a state of despair over the death of his love. For months after her death Imhotep had turned his vengeance on Evy, hitting her at the drop of a hat and constantly watching her with resentful eyes. She had assumed he hated her for living on while Ancksunamun again had been stripped from this earth.

Her assumption had proven wrong. Very wrong.

She stopped outside the tent entrance, forcing herself to forget those days. They were gone and Imhotep rarely ever treated her so badly as he had the week before his resolve failed him. Ardeth could never know about that time in her life. It was too frightening and private. Forgiven and forgotten. 

Evy wiped her wet cheeks and entered his tent to tell him the news, determined not to think on these things or Rick right now. Her heart was starting to belong to someone else, wasn't it? It struck her in the dimness just how sweet he could look when asleep and that drew her even further from the pain. Ardeth's dark eyelashes rested softly and his body was limp against one of the posts from which he hung. She padded to where he slept and dropped down to her knees before him. It wouldn't be every day she got the opportunity to watch him like this. It wouldn't be ever again if Imhotep had his way.

The thought made her ache, for this was a vision that met her eyes very warmly. Evy bit her bottom lip and regarded his tattered robe with regret. One of these days she was going to have to stop berating herself for raising him, but it wasn't today. His now healed skin peeked through dozens of rips in the fabric. He was going to need a fresh change of clothing, but she knew he would decline anything of Imhotep's based on the fact that it _was_ Imhotep's.

She looked his muscular form over, wondering what this would look like against the dawn. Morning's light would creep over him gently, embracing him in hues of blue at first, then gold. She was teasing herself, she knew. Ardeth would be gone tomorrow and with him any chance of finding out what their future could have held.

The watched man made a soft sound in his sleep and Evy found strange little chills spreading through her chest. She rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around her knees, chiding herself. No, this would be never again. She owed him a chance of finding peace somewhere—with someone else. It wasn't as if they were actually lovers. Tomorrow she would tell Ardeth the truth. They weren't and would never be. It would be so hard, though. How could she look in him the face and lie about what she wanted?

He groaned again and she noticed that his expression was fitful. He was having another nightmare and why not? This was the land of nightmares. She glared at the ropes that bound his wrists. "Well, as long as he's being generous, anyway," she breathed, crawling to one of the posts.

The knot was tough, but she could handle that. It was one of the things Jonathan had gifted her with before all this had started. Evy rested her tongue between her lips and furrowed her brow in concentration, then two minutes later his left arm was free. It didn't occur to her just how heavy a warrior could be as she untied his right, not until he dropped to the sand with a thud. Evy battled the urge to giggle as he got up sleepily. Ardeth searched the room, then her and his eyes sobered. "Running would be hopeless, Evy," he told her softly as he moved closer.

"We're not going to run," Evy retorted as he flexed a sore arm. She grabbed it and started to rub with an unnoticed urge to comfort. It was on her lips to tell him he was free, but after that would follow what she didn't want to say to keep him away. She just didn't have it in her to say it now. "I knew you were uncomfortable like that and well, Imhotep can bloody well deal with it. You need to rest."

Ardeth inhaled deeply, stretching his other arm out and said, "Thank you. I am surprised he let you return. He did allow it, didn't he? I don't want you to place yourself in danger needlessly."

Evy rolled her eyes and shook her head, running her hand up his arm. She found him warm and comforting. "I'm not in any danger, Ardeth. Don't worry about me." He eyed her at that, but kept his thoughts to himself.

Instead his hand stilled hers and those haunting, dark eyes were so truthful, caring and demanding. She frowned at him and he shook his head. That hair was going to be a problem. She wanted to touch it again, but it just wasn't wise to give in to this foolishness. Why did he have to look at her the way he did? It was penetrating and unlike anything she had ever experienced. Evy looked away and tried to ignore the sounds of his breath, but to no avail. His fingers brushed her hand and wrist, then traveled on up her arm, causing her to tremble inside. How was she supposed to tell him never to return? How could she forbid his touch and turn away his seeking for Imhotep's? "Things will work out, Evelyn," he nearly whispered, drawing his hand to her cheek. "I came back for you."

She couldn't cry now. If she did he would never believe her tomorrow. Things would work out, all right. He would live and she would go on with Imhotep. He could see her struggling and she just couldn't help it. Ardeth pulled her into his strong arms and she melted into the comfort he offered, kissing his shoulder and holding him as he rubbed her back. She could feel him breathing and the sensation seared itself into her memory even though she fought it.

Evy closed her eyes tightly, feeling his mouth brush against her ear and hair. Oh, she wanted this. She wanted to take comfort in him again, but it couldn't be. Yet she couldn't stop it. Ardeth brushed his cheek against hers and caressed a hand up the back of her neck, then pulled back to look at her face. Evy lowered her head to hide from his gaze and she found his lips pressing into her temple, then on down her jaw. The moment was entirely too silent. "Ardeth, is this what you want?" she asked in lost, breathy tones.

His forehead pressed against hers as he rubbed her arms and whispered, "You have always held a place in my heart, Evy. Perhaps in resurrection I have learned how precious love is and how deeply it can run. Perhaps it is something else. The answers elude me, but I know since you have brought me back, your presence has lingered with me always. You are my hope."

That made her aching increase. Why was the world so unfair? Evy searched him for any reason this should not happen, anything to make her task easier. She wanted him to say their feelings were only bred of shared pain and suffering, but would it be a lie? Before 1929 they had been friends, but she had belonged to Rick. What did she know of his private musings back then? "If I had never been with Rick…?" 

"Evelyn," Ardeth breathed gently, still holding her against him. He was so warm. His eyes were closed as he spoke his heart and even that endeared him to her. "I cannot tell you that I have always secretly desired you, if that assurance is what you seek. I would never allow myself to entertain thoughts of a woman who belonged to another man, especially if that man were a friend. Do you think I touch you because of fear? I have always loved you, Evelyn, in different ways. I make no secret that death changed me, but your life touches me. I see things differently now and I hold you because I want that life to fill me." He rubbed his hand down her shoulder blade and turned his intense, midnight gaze on her. "It's not simply the feeling of your body I look for, Evelyn. Just the nearness of you."

Her eyes were now quite moist and for that she cursed herself. Why did he have to say these things? And she would have to lie to him even still so his life would be spared. If he did not hate her now, he would tomorrow.

Her life filled him. It was such a strange concept. Of course she had no idea what he meant by that, but the thought made her smile amidst all her pain. He saw that and took hope from it. "So, you're telling me that when you paw at me like you are now, you're trying to steal my life from me to fill yourself?" Evy laughed lightly, desperate to lighten the mood and he rubbed his forehead against hers with smiling eyes.

"Something like that," he replied and she could hear the tiredness in his strong voice. Ardeth sighed and brushed her hair with his fingers. "We have so few hours before tomorrow."

She didn't need him to tell her of that fact. Evy could feel it coming, hear her hurtful words forming within even now. She had to keep reminding herself that the important thing was keeping him alive. She wanted his own life to fill her, even if she never knew where his path was leading him. "We should sleep," she suggested, wanting to leave these thoughts behind for even a few short hours.

Ardeth nodded and shifted himself to lay down right where he was, but she stopped him. She had never been exactly forward with her own desires and being Imhotep's slave had certainly stripped her of her long forgotten modesties, but right now being with Ardeth made her feel like that girl again. She nervously hesitated, wondering how he would react to her. This would be the first time she kissed him, not because the moment swept her into it, but because she cared for him. Kissing out of that emotion was different than desire—more vulnerable, and despite his soft words she nearly feared his rejection.

But he didn't push her away when she grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. His mouth warmly met hers, and for all her fears it was welcoming and gentle. This was definitely different and Evy found butterflies swirling around in her stomach. The emotion frightened her so much so she pulled away. Feeling embarrassed, Evy lowered her head again to hide, but he did not say anything against her. Instead Ardeth laid back in the sand and held his hand up, inviting her to join him.

When she lowered to the sand beside him he enfolded her within his arms and rested his head against hers as they settled to sleep. It felt so secure, so safe and warm. It felt like a dream. Ardeth's hand found her bare stomach and rubbed gently as his breathing deepened and Evy knew it wouldn't be long before he was asleep once more. If it would bring him more peace than life she would pray his rest gave him beautiful dreams from which he would never awaken.

Evy prayed the same for herself, but she just couldn't fall asleep. Preoccupied with studying the tent walls, she nestled deeper into his hold and thought about her life and her friends. Ardeth, Rick and Jonathan lived when she had thought them all dead. It gave her comfort, but also gave her regret. Not that she would ever wish death upon them, but would it not be better than this? They were grown men, but she hated that they lived with such burdens. Her own she could and would handle until the end of time if that sacrifice would buy them a way out of this. Who was she now, that such a dark thought as killing Ardeth in his sleep would enter her mind? Yet it did all the same and it brought tears to her eyes. She shouldn't have to consider mercy killings or tell Ardeth he had no place in her life anymore.

She had stopped crying about Imhotep's abuse a month after the first slap, but watching her loved ones suffer now brought every tear back. It was pointless, she knew. The past was the past and the king had offered mercy. Yet she couldn't stop herself from crying again. Evy would miss him so much, but he had to forget her. It was the only way.

Ardeth's hold was limp, proclaiming that precious rest had found him and Evy took his hand. She closed her eyes, pretending for the moment that this was forever.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and Arya (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Hey, wanna check out the new look for my meager little fanfiction site? http://geocities.com/saturnfiction

**To Reviewers**:

**Marcher** – Aaaw. :-D If it comes to posting before you get "left behind" I'll just do for you what I said I'd do for Mommints. "Marcher – where the crap are you? ;-D" ;-) Hehe. Thanks for your compliments…I'm pleased everyone's taking so well to Necromancer. Does me right proud, it does. ;-) Immy in pain…yes, he does need that doesn't he? It looks like he's got the upper hand though. :-O Doh!

**LadiSwan** – I've never seen an anime style fall. ;-) Incidentally, if I remember right, you are LadiSwan, right? I could swear to it, but it says "Xing" so I can't be 100% sure. :-O Thanks for the kind words!

**Marx** – Thankie, my friend! :-) I enjoy writing Neccy…nice to step into the darkness with my own characterization, rather than what we conceive Immy to be. :-) Tis fun and I'm happy people like him. Thankya muchly!

**Lula** – Aaw, don't cry!! :-D Yeah, Immy's got some plans as far as heart-rippage. Muahaha. Thank you! Glad you're liking.

**Mommints** – Or "Xing #2" as I name you. ;-) Hate me? :-O ;-) Aaaw. Now how could anyone hate lil' old me? :-O Thanks for the compliments…if I'm able to make the readers do anything besides grunt in non-amusement, I'm a heppy person. ;-) Hope to see more from ya soon!

**Serena** – Thanks for your compliments on Neccy. ;-) If you're twisted for liking him, I must be for thinking like him enough to write him. Lol. ;-) Hope you continue to enjoy!! :-)

**Deana** – Aaaw, that's such a nice thing for you to say!!! :-O I can't even believe you said it. :-) You're too kind, my friend! You rock too! And so do your Mummy stories (all of them, really) which I'd like to see more of. *cough* I might have to continue with that fic where you forsook Ardeth for the sake of loftier company. ;-) Thanks!


	19. Bleeding Compassion to Extremes

**Speak Softly**  
Bleeding Compassion To Extremes

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Jonathan held his arm and made a face, leaning against the wall of a long vacated building. His heart raced and his breath came with great effort. Angry voices caught his ears and he swore, then took off again. This was not starting out to be a good day.

Three very large men with guns were hot on his trail just now, chasing him through this forgotten little city. If they caught him he would be spending the next few days in jail, then probably on to Imhotep where death would claim him. Jonathan darted down a shadowy alley lit only by the faintest of morning's first rays. He did his very best to avoid knocking the garbage cans over and slipped behind an old couch someone had thrown out a long time ago. It smelled, but offered good cover for the moment.

Jonathan slid down the wall and caught his breath, his shoulder burning in pain. He hadn't had the chance to see anyone even remotely resembling a doctor yet due to an unfortunate encounter last night. Apparently asking around about the Book of Amun Ra wasn't exactly conducive to the maintaining of good health.

It was Rick's fault, of course. He had warned his friend about dealing with these underground types, but of course Rick knew everything. They had entered town seeking medical help, but instead found a thug who wanted to know what business they had being here. Rick made up a good lie and the Arab had insisted they come for 'a game of cards'. Despite Jonathan's warnings against it, O'Connell agreed and the night had progressed quite well, actually.

That was until the night drew to a close. One of the dark fiends won the last round and promptly asked Rick's real business because any man with blue eyes was likely on bad business, or so it was said. Rick thought he had gained a good rep with these men, being the brilliant ex-criminal himself and all, and slyly hinted that someone he was working for might be looking for the Book of Amun Ra. That did it.

The men drew their guns and their so-called leader laughed, saying he knew it had to do with Imhotep. People who had dealings with the king weren't welcome in these parts, be it good dealings or bad. They were to be taken to see a white man called Jorin, a sort of ringleader of affairs around here.

Someone had to get out of this alive. Jonathan felt very adamant about Evy not being left alone in the world to fend for herself with Imhotep's leering eyes always on her, so he bolted. He _would_ return for Rick and try to bust him out of their little hole if he could, but these things had to be planned. He still had a gun on him—one that he had hidden away before the battle with the jackals, so he had that going for him at least and adding that to the fact that the three guards had just ran past the alley instead of entering it, Jonathan thought he was doing pretty well.

Of course that was until _she_ came. From out of the darkness tiptoed a little girl who looked no more than six, her dark eyes shinning in curiosity. The last thing he needed was a screaming child to give him away, but she looked calm enough right now. Jonathan put his finger to his lips and nodded towards the openness beyond just as another guard shot by. Her dark eyes gazed up in fear, but her little pink lips made no sound. This was a girl who knew the dangers of this land.

Jonathan thought his heart would beat out of his chest when a gruff voice demanded, "Have you seen a man with blue eyes, child?" The little girl nodded and his heart sank, knowing he would not escape now. But the dirty child's arm popped up and her small finger indicated he had run in the direction the other guards had gone. The guard laughed a harsh, sickening sound and said, "You better run, girl. I'll be back for you later."

The girl turned back to Jonathan and extended a small hand, asking for him to take it. Without even knowing why or how smart a choice it was, he did and she pulled him deeper into the alleyway. A large mattress leaned against the brick wall and there was a way beneath, a small path that this little child promptly dragged him into. The mattress didn't smell any better than the couch and he didn't fancy holing up behind it, but surprisingly that's not what she had intended. Behind there was a large hole in the building.

Jonathan found himself in a small, dirty room that had about three other children and a few adults. His little friend didn't let go of his hand, but pulled him deeper into the house as the others stared at him through weary eyes. They came to another room where a woman was cooking and Jonathan ran right into a chair, staring at her. "Um, hello," he greeted, stepping around the piece of furniture. He wiped his hand off on his pants and extended it.

The woman, who was quite beautiful in Jonathan's book, furrowed her brow and ignored the hand, turning to the child below with scolding eyes. "Sania, what have you done? I've told you not to bring strangers here!"

Sania said nothing to the woman, merely pointed towards the alley outside and with crossed eyes, ran her hand across her throat as if cutting it. The other woman pursed her lips and the child giggled. Jonathan took a step back and rubbed his cut shoulder absently. "I guess I'd better go, then."

The little girl shook her head vehemently and gave the woman a very stern glare. She shook her head and extended her hand for Jonathan, saying, "I am Layla. We don't get many visitors here and I'm sure you can imagine why." She looked him over and gave him an uneasy expression. "You have blue eyes. Sania, you have put us in grave danger."

Little Sania pulled a chair from the table and plopped down, sticking her tongue out in the process. She made a circle with her hands and gave Layla a very suggestive look. "Interesting little child you've got there," Jonathan commented, taking a chair himself out of sheer tiredness. Layla eyed him suspiciously at that and he mirrored Sania's pleading expression as charmingly as he could. "Is she yours?"

Layla frowned and returned to the stove to stir inside a very large pot. "Sania, you know I don't have any cookies. Ask your friend." She gave him a sidelong glance, then sighed. "She is mine."

Staring at Layla, wondering how such a beautiful woman could have such a sour disposition, Jonathan failed to notice Sania until a spoon met his hand rather hard. He could definitely see the family resemblance. Sania made the circle again and widened her eyes quite devastatingly and Jonathan mourned the fact that he had no cookies. "Sorry, little one," he breathed, reaching over to mess up her dark tresses. She stuck her tongue out. "You don't say very much, do you?"

Sania shrugged, but Layla answered with a resigned voice. "Sania has not talked since her father died." She grabbed a bowl from the counter and a spoon, dipping some soup out. "He was killed in the first war with that stupid priest. I really don't need to tell you the horror stories, do I?"

The bowl found its way in front of him and Jonathan looked into the steamy contents. It looked quite good, given that ingredients were likely scarce. "Thanks," he told her, taking a spoon from her hand. Another bowl found Sania and she smiled at him, holding her spoon in a threatening manner as if to flip food in his direction. Jonathan stuck his tongue out and she giggled. "So, ah, hiding from the local thugs?" he asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

Layla again ignored him and left the room, calling for the others to come and eat. When she came back she took her place beside the stove, ready to serve her people and he thought it best to remain silent. This wasn't a happy place, at least not to the adults, but the kids seemed remarkably normal. This was the way life was for them, but the parents knew better. They remembered what life was like before. A boy of probably ten pulled Sania's hair and she whapped him with her spoon. "Be good!" Layla snapped, handing out a bowl of breakfast to an elderly lady.

Sania pouted into her bowl and Jonathan gave her a wink. Her little face brightened and he noticed Layla's scowl. The procession of hungry people ended almost as quickly as it began, and Sania's mother came to the table finally with a bowl of her own. She stirred her soup and looked up at him. "Everyone hides from Jorin and his people—_everyone_. So, what brings you here, blue-eyed stranger? Why should we hide you and risk our meager lives?"

Jonathan sighed and took a bite of his food gratefully, then met her hard gaze. "You don't have to take me in," he assured her with a swallow, then dipped in for more. "Little Sania found me hiding in the alley and brought me here out of her hospitality."

"Hospitality is a very dangerous offer to make," Layla replied coolly.

This wasn't going well at all and it was true he was putting them all in more danger than necessary, but those cutthroats would probably skewer him good if they caught him. "Unless you're a big, knife toting criminal, I take it? Look, I'll gladly leave as soon as I'm done eating, but would it be so bad if you could at least recommend somewhere I can hide for the night? They're out there searching as we speak and I'd hate to leave my sister all alone in the world just yet."

Sania gasped at that, then looked down at the table sadly. Her mother glared at him darkly as if he'd just thrown a snake at the little girl, then slammed her spoon down. He shifted uneasily and decided not to ask for directions or anything else. Layla sighed and shook her head, taking his arm so he wouldn't get up. "It's not your fault. Little Sania had a sister." Things were like this all over the world, he realized, though he had always known. It just seemed more personal now. Layla inhaled and let his arm go. "So, what is your name? Or would you prefer 'blue eyes'?"

"Jonathan," he answered, taking another bite of soup. "Jonathan Carnahan at your service."

Layla gave him a wan smile, the first offer in the way of politeness since he had entered, and he found himself enjoying it. She was really quite pretty when she smiled. "Jonathan Carnahan," she repeated, testing the name. "There is a reason I should know that name I think, but it escapes me. Well, Jonathan, you may hide here tonight. I can't guarantee you'll be safe, but at least it's better than the streets. If you'll excuse me, I'll go prepare a bedroll for you."

Jonathan watched her get up, leaving her breakfast behind and said, "It's only morning. Surely it can wait?" She shook her head and swept from the room. He inhaled deeply, deciding it better to leave her be, whatever her problems were. Sania pointed towards the door and ran her fingers down her cheeks, and he knew what she was getting at. "Sorry, little one. I didn't mean to make your mum cry."

Sania nodded sadly and shrugged her little shoulders once, then went back to her bowl, kicking her legs back and forth. One slapped into his shin and he waved his spoon at her. She rewarded his gesture with another kick, then giggled at his mock hard expression. He might actually like his stay here…if he could get Layla to smile again.

~~~~~~~

Ardeth woke up sometime after dawn, but did not dare make a move. Her body was warm and soft against his and he thought it likely that forever could pass before he would ever feel it again. He propped himself up on one arm and rested his head against his hand, using his other to touch her arm. A stray lock of dark hair caught his attention, lying gently against her pale shoulder and he smoothed it back. Where would life take them today? He feared he would meet Imhotep's dagger or something worse. A Med-Jai warrior was brave to the core, but that did not mean fear never touched his heart. Ardeth trembled for his future and for hers.

He could watch her sleep forever. His mind traveled back to the Field of the Med-Jai, back to those moments in the sand. Those sensations had burned themselves into his memory and he could still hear her soft whimpers of need. It made him close his eyes to hide the dawn. He had been separated from her once since she had brought him back from the dead and he held no desire for it to happen again. He loved this woman more than he thought himself capable, but he still shied away from thinking of her as his. He had not been prepared for such personal feelings to stir inside for her.

Rubbing lazy circles over her arm, Ardeth had failed to notice her stirrings at first. Evelyn shifted and he opened his eyes slightly, still too tired to believe this was day. Under those heavy lids he did notice her expression, however. She looked bothered, but he hadn't expected her to move away.

Evy sat up and did move, brushing her hair behind her ears and folding her arms across her chest. "Morning already?" she asked and he nodded, opening his eyes a little wider.

"Is something wrong?" he prompted gently, knowing there could be a dozen reasons for her to be upset. He had told her once to be strong for him, but right now he knew he needed to be strong for her.

She shook her head and kept her eyes downcast as she had last night. Something was very definitely wrong. "Nothing," she replied in a voice that betrayed it wasn't true. Evy tucked her hair behind her ear again and glanced at him momentarily. "Ardeth, we have to talk."

Not moving from his position though his arm was starting to tingle a bit, Ardeth toyed with the sand below and watched her struggle. He wanted to take it from her, but what would life allow him to do? There was only one thing to do right now. "I'm listening."

Her dark eyes met the ground again. Whatever it was, she was having trouble saying it. He sat up and she flinched, so he quickly stopped to give her her space. "Ardeth, you're free." She looked up for his reaction and he exhaled. "Imhotep says that today you're free to go without fear for your safety. I assume you should wait until he comes to see you off, but as soon as he does, you can go wherever you want."

That Ardeth wasn't ready to believe. "Why would he do such a thing?" Surely this was a trap.

Evelyn exhaled deeply and licked her lips, looking up into his eyes. "He's changed."

Ardeth shook his head and spoke without a beat, "No, he hasn't. Don't believe his lies. I was beneath his palace and talked with him." Very clearly he could remember Imhotep's proud stance, his words of possessing Evy. This was another game.

"Ardeth, there are things between Imhotep and I that you don't know about," she replied to that, her voice shaking as she tried to get this lie across to him. It was a lie and he knew it. Something had frightened her into this. He reached for her and she shoved his hand away, her brows narrowing suddenly. "Don't touch me."

Shaking his head, Ardeth reached for her again and this time caught her arm. "Don't do this," he pleaded, taking her chin in his hand to make her look at him. Her eyes met his, wide and angry. He let her face go and gazed back softly. "I love you."

Her jaw set as she jerked her arm back. Evy got to her feet and he followed, causing her to back off. Her tone was firm as she went on with this charade. "Don't do that. Please don't love me, Ardeth. You don't know who I am anymore. I've done things…I…"

Ardeth cornered her and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her fully as he placed his lips near her ear. He could feel her trembling in his grasp as he whispered, "I know enough, Evelyn. I will always love you."

Evy sniffled as tears came and he did his best to soothe her through it. She was scared for him and telling lies because of it. If he could take her from this right now, he wouldn't stop at the ends of the earth. "Ardeth, please," she whimpered into his shoulder, her small arms holding him tightly. "I don't deserve your love. Don't you understand that?" He closed his eyes and rested his head against hers. "What happened between us wasn't love…not the kind of love you think."

Brushing his hand across her cheek and into her hair, Ardeth looked down into her eyes, searching for the truth. Fear met his vision, mixed with pain and longing that awakened the same in him. Softly he said, "Kiss me again and tell me. Then I will believe you." She trembled as he tilted her chin up gently. Her kiss told him the truth as he bent down, and her eyes said she knew it when he stood.

She pulled away from his arms and wiped her face. "It doesn't matter what you believe. I've agreed to marry Imhotep and he made no threats to make me do it. I agree because I want what he's going to offer to me. You say that you love me?" He nodded and she continued. "Then hear me, Ardeth. Do as I wish. I choose him. I choose to serve him and I give him my allegiance. I can't love you. I don't need you anymore, I _used_ you and…and if anyone's going to rescue me it will be Rick!" The last came out suddenly, but the effect of that statement kept all words from passing Ardeth's lips. It hit home and hit hard. "Don't come back."

As she turned and raced out he could do nothing but gaze after her, wondering what to believe. This had to be a lie designed to keep him away, to make him find a life outside of these terrible burdens, but something kept returning to mind. Everything Necromancer had said would come to pass, did. Rick had betrayed him, leaving him to die in the sand—Rick's betrayal. They would leave him all alone, he had said, and that's exactly what was happening. Was this Evy's predestined betrayal?

It felt like it, despite his fervent wish to believe otherwise, even if it were a lie.

~~~~~~~

Evy covered her face the second she exited the tent, blinded by her tears as she stumbled through the gray morning. Attendants she brushed by muttered darkly, calling her wretched names she felt she now thoroughly deserved. She hadn't even looked to see his expression—not that she wanted to know. She knew exactly which little phrase would keep Ardeth away and confirmation was neither necessary nor desired. No, the last thing she needed was to see those eyes gazing back at her like they inevitably would have. This felt so alone and maybe that was rightly so. Maybe she shouldn't be rescued by anyone—Ardeth _or_ Rick. Right now she needed someone to cry on, but there was no one. No one…except Imhotep.

She shoved the tent flap aside and entered, then wiped her eyes. Imhotep was sitting on his cot, putting on a pair of black shoes. Upon seeing her he stood up and came before her, looking down into her sad face in concern. "Nefertiri?" He reached for her, but she ducked away.

"I," she began, uncertain she could continue. _I will always love you._ Ardeth's words echoed through her thoughts over and over again. Imhotep would delight in what she had done. Evy covered her face again, unable to look at him anymore. Imhotep wrapped his fingers around her arms and pulled her close, caging her to him in an embrace she loathed. "No!" she hissed, but he refused to let her go. It was too much to bear. _I will always love you._ How could she have done that to Ardeth?

"Shhh," the king soothed, petting her like one of his puppies. Evy wanted to push him away, but she would be alone again if she did. Maybe she could at least pretend these arms were comforting for now.

Evy closed her eyes tightly and pillowed her face in her hands, hating that she was crying in front of Imhotep. This was his fault. Everything was his fault. Her stomach hurt as she unwillingly relived what she had just done. "I hate you," she whispered, resting limply in his arms. One of her small hands curled around his robe as she looked up, showing her tear-stained face to her master. She glared at him and breathed it again. "I hate you." 

Instead of rebuking her or something worse, he merely took in the expression she gave him and brushed her hair back. He said nothing and his face betrayed as much. He just kept touching her and it irritated her. But she had no strength to brush past the hurt and do anything about it. Evy leaned against him again, wanting to hide from those dark eyes that seemed to care, but didn't. "Did you tell him he could leave?" Imhotep finally questioned after a short time.

"Yes," she replied in an almost lifeless voice as she stared at the meaningless wealth of objects to her right. Hers, now that she was his queen. Imhotep pawed through her hair in a relentlessly gentle way. "I told him…I told him I didn't love him and that I didn't need him anymore. That Rick…"

Imhotep hummed in understanding and tightened his hug for a moment. His voice sounded empathic, but conceding her choice as wisdom as he said, "It is for the best. If he does not return I will not be forced to kill him."

Evy frowned and pulled back finally. "You don't have to kill him at all, you know. You could let us both go free and…" She stopped when his expression hardened. He would never let her go. The sand called to her eyes again.

"I will have my price, Nefertiri," he asserted wearily, holding her closer as if to prove his point. "Even if his reasons are true and noble, a man who challenges his king suffers grave penalties. By rights I should curse him as I was cursed, but I am more merciful than you, Nefertiri, who cursed _me_."

That made her eyes widen a little. She had never even considered Imhotep might perform the Hom-Dai on anyone and the thought of that befalling Ardeth was harsh. That truly would be worse than death and it made her realize just how important it was to keep Imhotep appeased. He shook his head and held up his hand, seeing the panic in her eyes. "I will hold true to my mercy, Nefertiri. He may have his freedom."

Evy lowered her head at that, not knowing what to say. How could she thank him for this, after everything he had done? She could feel him watching her, but right now she didn't care. Let him do as he pleased with her. She would deserve it for what she had just done to Ardeth. It echoed through her again and she knew she would never be able to get his voice out of her mind. _I will always love you._ It was more than a promise, it was a death sentence to her heart.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla and Sania (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: :-O

**To Reviewers**:

**Lula** – Oh man…so sorry!!! I can't believe I missed you in the thanking…I mean I knew you had reviewed…cause I read it and was thankful…oye. Don't think I wasn't!! I was just in a rush! *sniff* Now I feel terrible! :-O Anyway, HUGE THANK YOU for the review…and huge SOWWY. I'm glad you're liking the Ardeth/Evy stuff as well…not everyone's cuppa, but it's nice to know that some either like it like me, or can look past it for the plot. :-) I miss you as well and I'm glad to be seeing you more often…and reading Endless. :-) Thank you much for your high compliments…they mean lots to me, even if I am an absent-minded goofball! Doh! You've always been right there through my stories and that means a great deal to me, my friend. :-)

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Aaaw…that's too nice of you to say!! :-O Thanks…I'm glad you like this story! I've been seeing yours flit through the archive…I'll check into it soon!

**Marcher** – Hehe! Hey, late or early, I'm thankful for all my reviews! Tis nice to know I'm doing something rightish! Lol. About that breakout…:-O ;-) Thank you much my friend. Poor Evy and poor Ardeth indeed. Muahahaha…and this isn't the end to the torment!

**Serena** – I always feel for Immy…cause he's just so freaking messed up, that poor sexy devil. ;-) Even when he is being a jerk. Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying!

**Deb** – It occurs to me that by anime style fall you may have meant Matrix…which is totally kewl. ;-) Hehehe. Anyway, yeah, Neccy's got a love for being dishonest even when he's being honest...but is this really the predestined betrayal Neccy was talking about? ;-) But yeah…I figured to keep Ardeth safe she'd do anything, even make him believe she turned against him. Thanks!

**Mommints** – It appears the Xing problem has been solved…I'm glad it didn't delete the names of the unsigned reviewers! *whew* Aaaw, you chucked it? I hope you didn't do it again cause I'd like to reaaaad. ;-) Wouldn't it be nice though, to fall asleep in Ardeth's arms? *lesigh* Tis not fair that he should exist as a single being and not many for all of us. ;-) Thanks!

**Marxbros** – Thankie, my friend. That's very kind of you to say! :-O So High…hehe. Well, I was running out of chapter titles and at the moment I believe I was listening to "Hero" on the Spiderman soundtrack (which I turned on just now, what a great song!) and I just snagged the title from the line "I am so high I can hear Heaven, oh but Heaven, no Heaven don't hear me" and I thought it sorta fit…Ardeth being high on emotions for being with Evy, but darkness was still over them in that Imhotep had them making up for the heaven don't hear me part. :-D If I can't think of a title of my own, I usually take it from a song. And yes…Immy's going through his own little weirdness as well. :-D He needs it. Thanks!!

**Deana** – You forsook him! *sniff* Ardeth's so upset. ;-) As for Evy, well, she didn't wanna say what she had to up there just yet, so that's why she was kinda quiet. ;-D Thanks for reviewing, my friend!


	20. An Eye For Nothing

**Speak Softly**  
An Eye For Nothing

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Ardeth paced his tent, waiting for whatever fate would toss him. He supposed that any time now Imhotep would finally show his face and grandly offer him his freedom. And of course Ardeth would walk away with it. He would play the game until he found a way to win it. Ardeth never broke a promise, not to another or to himself.

Kicking the sand beneath his feet, he let his gaze fall upon the bloody cot nearby. _His_ blood, dried and dark. Yet he bore no wounds to prove the red substance had come from him. None save the wounds on his heart. So much suffering had come from this one man, this priest who had died for love. Yet in a way Ardeth could understand why things had happened as they had. He knew what little love that had begun between he and Evelyn had brought to him already a resolve of doing what was best for her because he loved her. He did not know how long Imhotep had loved Ancksunamun, but even a short time would have been powerful.

Ardeth hated understanding Imhotep's motives, however. He hated that small well of pity that arose in him whenever he thought about all Imhotep had suffered for love. He had been wrong to murder Seti in cold blood and wrong to try and bend the world to his will out of revenge for the curse he had been given. But he could understand the original intent.

Wrapping himself deeper into his pointless, torn robe, Ardeth sighed at the chill in the air, praying fervently that it would _not_ rain today. He could do without getting drenched again. Then again, perhaps he would never fully get away from that. The weather may not go away with the king's death.

He still felt a little weak, but otherwise decent. Of course almost anything other than having his body cut to shreds was a step up. Still, it would make for slower travel if he had to rest more. He was eager to have his freedom so he could retrieve the Book of Amun Ra and if possible, the Staff of Osiris. That last caused him some puzzlement and he frowned. The book alone had stopped Imhotep before, but Necromancer seemed intent on getting the staff as well. Perhaps it was a trap. Ardeth wasn't sure what to believe about anything right now, be it about Necromancer, Rick or Evelyn.

But before he could fall too deeply into the trap of brooding, an interruption presented itself. From behind where he stood in his tent someone entered and he turned, expecting to see Imhotep. Instead it was merely one of the assistants that had buried the post in the ground for him to be bound to. His expression was hard as he pointed and announced, "The King and Queen will see you off now."

_King and Queen_, he thought with distaste. Ardeth inhaled and followed, keeping his arms crossed as if it would protect him from further injury. They stepped out into the soft daylight and he looked up, seeing Evy with her hand entangled with Imhotep's and learned his arms were of little use to protect his heart. She was going to suffer if she stayed and the thought was unacceptable and unbearable, but nothing could be done.

The priest held his head high, as any king should. When they came face to face with equally firm expressions Ardeth found he had nothing to say. He would not thank Imhotep for this verbally and the silence hung between them for a short span until finally Imhotep raised an eyebrow, but took no offence and spoke. "I give you your freedom on the terms that you will leave and never return. If I lay eyes upon you again, you will die. You may tell O'Connell the same."

"I understand," Ardeth replied coldly, avoiding Evy's eyes as much as she seemed to avoid his. This would be easier on them all if he just left, but everything in him spoke against it. He exhaled and looked out towards the desert, forcing himself to say, "By your leave."

Imhotep's lips spread into an unfriendly smile as he nodded once, then held up a long, black cloth. "A gift of parting, Ardeth Bay, for the pain my jackals caused you. I regret the brutality that was done upon you. Remove the past and embrace the future. For it is mine." He spread the fabric, revealing it to be a long robe as was customary for the priest to wear. It had only one decoration on it, a small symbol of Osiris near the collar. Imhotep's amusement flickered openly across his features, for this was not merely a gift. It was an assurance of obedience. It was a last stab before parting. Ardeth wanted no part of being branded to this man's service, so he hesitated.

A soft breeze rustled through his hair as Imhotep waited for him to take the cloak, willing it with eyes daring him to cause friction between them, but movement stopped them both from wondering what Ardeth would do. It was Evelyn that moved, her dark eyes meeting his with sorrow and his hurt over her words of using him and wanting Rick waned. He wanted to touch her still, to whisper a promise to save her, but even if Imhotep were not watching he feared would be unable to speak any words of good-bye. So he spoke with his eyes as she took the cloak from Imhotep, her soft pull holding enough command to make the priest let go.

Though her resolve remained, he could see the pain that hurting him had caused her and Ardeth let go of his jealousy. This wasn't her fault. It wasn't Rick's. It was the priest's.

She stepped around him and he closed his eyes, knowing that after this morning he could possibly never see her again. _Please, give me one sign of hope, _he prayed silently, looking up at Eternal Sorrow and ignoring Imhotep's presence. But Evelyn gave him no hope. He felt a small tug on his robe and turned with gentle eyes to see what she would have of him. Evy only looked away at that. "Take this off," she whispered, pulling at the robe again. She wanted him to remove it and wear the clothing of his enemy.

"I can't. I'll have nothing left," he answered and she glared up with tears threatening her cheeks.

That same commanding touch she had with Imhotep in taking the cloak held sway over himself, Ardeth realized, as she began sliding the robe down his arms. He found himself powerless to stop her despite what a terrible thing she was doing. The torn Med-Jai robe hit the sand and jarred everything inside of him—every bit of tradition and honor for the Med-Jai, and he had to turn away when Evy lifted the black robe of Osiris.

Even the king seemed troubled by what was happening, as if he understood, gazing behind Ardeth's shoulder with a mildly surprised expression. It was all he had left of his people, tattered as it was, and she was demanding he leave it and her behind for so little as his life. Yet he had no strength to deny her. Imhotep, he would have fought until his death before obeying such a command, but Evy held an entirely different power over him. So he accepted this as he accepted all the sad events of this morning. Ardeth straightened his arms and looked down to the earth, unwilling to allow Imhotep the pleasure of seeing how hard this was for him. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers trail his skin as she shrouded the fabric about his shoulders.

Evy let her hands rest on him for a tense moment after the cloak was let go, then drew herself around, so close and warm. He looked down, still asking for that sign and this time by the mercy of Heaven she gave him one. Now in front of him and heedless of any anger Imhotep might have, Evelyn wrapped her hand around Ardeth's neck and pulled him down. Her lips pressed against cheek for a moment, then she drew his ear to her mouth, whispering, "Carry that with you for the past, Ardeth and remember what I told you of the future. I serve _him_." Their good-bye came to an end with that and Evy stepped back beside her king. Imhotep's hand curled again around hers as if to demonstrate his possession of her.

Ardeth gazed at those clenched hands a moment, then forced himself to meet the eyes of his enemy. The returning gaze was hard, but not threatening. An assistant shoved a brown pack into his hands and the king spared him from having to speak. "I free you. You have leave to go. Remember my terms."

Bay straightened and brushed away the anger at Imhotep's voice, breathing to this hated priest, "I will never forget." He glanced at Evy and she avoided him again, so he did what he deemed would be wisest. If he didn't leave her now, he couldn't be certain he ever could. Ardeth turned and began east, feeling like he was abandoning his history and the woman he loved.

The breeze was cool, but he could feel the heat of the sun trying to break through the gray barrier of Imhotep's magic. The mix felt good, probably the only thing that would today and for many tomorrows to come. He shouldered the bag and stared out ahead, his outlook uncertain. The rest of this trip would be made alone and that dragged him down, but his mission remained. The priest saw his acceptance as defeat, but Ardeth would not let it be so. Let the king rest in security for now, for his time was drawing to a close. Ardeth would make the vision of Ancksunamun come true. It was his destiny.

The robes of Imhotep trailed behind him, splashing his body with the current of the wind and it caused him to shiver. Everything was changed since his death. Why should Rick and Evy not be a part of that? She did not know what she had just done, for that had been a wound every bit as painful as what those jackals had dealt. He loved his people and the history he had been brought up in. A history his children would have to rely on only his memory of if he ever had any.

He was thankful his parents had not lived to see such times. This would have broken their hearts. His father had been so proud to be a Med-Jai and proud of his son for the skill and wisdom he possessed. Thank God he had not seen the end of his people. Yet Ardeth supposed if there were a last Med-Jai, his father would have been in some way proud it was he that carried it on. But what man can remember all of the teachings of a lifetime? There would be gaps in what he told his children.

Ardeth brushed his long hair back and let himself enjoy the wind that caressed him, one of the few changes he didn't hate—if rain didn't accompany it. It soothed most of his aches and pains. Yet he knew he would not escape totally. Everything seemed to fill him, both the life and hurt all around. Egypt was crying and his changed spirit accepted the hurt and the despair, called it to his heart as if it were all his own pain. It came to him unbidden, unwanted and terrible in its saturation and he could not understand its purpose or why resurrection had done this. He wondered if Imhotep had felt this way after being brought back.

_He is cursed_, Ardeth reminded himself in answer, realizing suddenly the priest did not. Imhotep's return had been hailed by a curse, his own by a blessing. That would explain why the priest felt so little about the acts of evil he so carelessly committed. A curse was an empty, lonely thing and a blessing consumed like fire.

His musings were interrupted when he caught something in his peripheral vision. A shadow came towards him with a slow but deliberate gait. Necromancer. Ardeth groaned inwardly and stopped, waiting for his former friend—another mystery to be uncovered. The deathly creature kept its robe wrapped tightly around its withered body to keep life from touching him.

The hood over Necromancer's head hid his face from Ardeth's eyes. Rasping in air, the creature clasped its hands together and said, "Greetings, Ardeth Bay." That hateful voice sounded weaker, as if being out tired him. He seemed to watch Ardeth for a moment after speaking, then his head jerked back and two black, glittering eyes met his own in realization. "You shared your life with the priest! You even wear his mark!" he hissed in a voice filled with dread, fury and loathing.

Ardeth backed away as one of those pallid hands darted out to grasp him. He liked those two facts even less than Necromancer, but what was done was done. Still, it bothered him that this thing could see the king's power on him. "Imhotep sustained me with his life. It was not my choice."

Necromancer seemed to tremble and Ardeth couldn't decide whether it seemed more in fear or rage. The answer came when again the undead thing made an attack, hands moving faster this time than Ardeth could counter. Necromancer seized his arm and scratched it, drawing and spilling blood over his own gnarled flesh. The result was instantaneous. He shrieked and backed off, hissing and growling things the Med-Jai couldn't guess. "Your blood still burns to the touch!" he accused and Bay turned away in disgust.

He started walking, ignoring Necromancer as the creature followed behind, breathing in its moist breaths and muttering foul curses. Ardeth pulled back his black sleeve and clutched his arm in pain, watching red slowly drip down his flesh. It stung bad enough, but wasn't deep. Necromancer glared at the red, but attempted civility. "So, you have figured out the difference between you and Imhotep, have you? You fool! You let him steal part of your blessing. Now he may again find redemption, for mercy is entitled to all who carry a blessing upon their lives. In exchange for that you have taken part of his curse upon yourself!"

Ardeth stopped and faced his old friend quickly at that. "What do you mean I've taken his curse?" Sajul was not lying. He had felt it even before, but had no name with which to call what was happening until now. What would this do to him?

Deep in his chest Necromancer rasped a laugh and hovered his hand between touching Ardeth's bloody arm and not. "His curse is like a poison in your spirit, Ardeth. If you are strong enough you will prevail against it, just as if he is evil enough, he will prevail against the blessing. If you are weak, the curse could consume you."

"You lie," Ardeth retorted, not believing that. Yet his heart warned him against such quick assumptions. For all his faults Necromancer did seem to know of these things.

Necromancer wrung his hands and smiled darkly. "Guard your heart well, Ardeth, for you may come to know evil as he knows it. It's a part of you now and will eat at you, dragging you to despair. There is a shadow over your soul."

Something about that didn't sound right and Ardeth started walking again, questions on his tongue, but coming no further. He did not want to believe that. It didn't sound possible, but he could feel the curse on him. He felt dirty and that added to his list of things to worry about at his earliest inconvenience. "You do not want to believe," Necromancer cooed, sounding pleased by that fact. "Do you not feel the link to him? Do you not understand even the very surface of his heart?"

He did understand Imhotep a little better. Ardeth inhaled and searched himself, looking for any hint of some sort of link. It was there, but barely. A simple awareness of Imhotep's life. He frowned at the idea, but did not let himself spare worry over it now. Necromancer was trying to frighten him. "It will not work," he told the creature, knowing he had heard his thoughts.

Necromancer hacked and laughed at the Med-Jai's resolve, his hands rubbing again as if he were anticipating some great gift. That irritated Bay and quite plainly was going to have to change or he would have to tie the beast's wrists together. "You're right, Ardeth," he sneered sarcastically, amusement still touching his voice. "I make it all up, just as your Evelyn lied to save you. Perhaps if you keep believing these things they will be true someday."

"Never speak her name," Ardeth replied in a deadly quiet tone, picking up his pace in the hope of leaving this wretched being behind. Sajul was not fit to speak her name with his foul lips.

"Hhrrr. You protect her still, even though she used you to escape the pain. But I see your doubt. You can hide from yourself, but not me, Ardeth. I see all."

Ardeth grunted his reply and kept his eyes ahead. For one who could see all it seemed apparent he could not see how weary he was of his talk. A trip alone with this thing seemed quite an absurd idea just now, for if this kept up Ardeth felt he was going to have trouble restraining himself. He ventured a sidelong glare at the necromancer, who stared back with strange eyes. "You could never stand up to me, Ardeth," he said in a somewhat lower voice. "From the time when we were children until even after you grew up I was always the stronger. Do you remember when I broke your arm? How sorry I was?"

Unnerved a little by this change of mood, Ardeth looked away and nodded, but said nothing. He wasn't entirely comfortable with this and Necromancer would know it. The rasping stopped and so did the talking after Sajul whispered, "You are right. Things can never be the same."

~~~~~~~

Sitting with his forehead leaned against the thick bars behind which he was caged, Rick blinked once and continued staring at the wall across from him. This little jail had no windows, so he guessed he was beneath the ground. He hadn't been awake for the trip here. They hadn't given him any food or water, hadn't come to see about him in the long hours he had been awake and for all the world appeared as if they had forgotten him. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had been stuck in a situation like this.

At least he was alone. If he had to be in jail he would prefer to have the place to himself, without the fear of offending a more violently inclined criminal. Still, he had no one to talk to, nothing to take his mind off of his worries. He was thankful Jonathan had gotten away, but could have stood the company of the Englishman.

So he had thought playing cards with those thugs had been a good idea? After all he'd been through he was entitled to a few screw-ups. But why did they always have to get him into such trouble? The morning he had gotten up and started to ready himself to take Evy out to Hamunaptra for the first time he had known he was making a mistake, but she had such pretty eyes. And look what that one single mistake had gotten them into. Oh, and naturally, of course, this probably wouldn't be his last blunder.

Rick drew his legs up on the wooden cot he was sitting on and rested his back against the cold bars so he could examine his own cell again. The crack in the upper left hand corner was getting annoying, for every time he turned in this direction Rick found his eyes traveling to it. He had already gotten his arm good and sore from trying to shove at it, seeing if it was weak enough to break. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

He sighed, wondering what Evy was doing just now. Jonathan had told him the news of Imhotep's proposal and while Rick knew it wouldn't ever be some loving marriage, it still made him jealous. He could picture that bastard's arm snaking around her possessively and that really, _really_ bugged him. He would have gladly endured seeing Evy with Ardeth instead of that prospect.

Those jealous feelings over Ardeth started stirring again and Rick felt guilty. His friend was dead and he was still angry. There had to be something wrong with that. He had been confused and uncertain about what to hope for. A part of him had wanted Ardeth to let it go and step aside no matter what notions Evy had running through her mind, but the other part—the unselfish part of him that got on his nerves, that part wanted to deck Ardeth good and hard for letting something like that happen without knowing if was happening out of love. If Evy got her heart broken over this… But she wouldn't and he couldn't stay angry with a dead man. Not without feeling guilty and he didn't need that right now.

Instead Rick turned his thoughts to wondering what on earth Jonathan was up to. At the first sign of trouble, and being the less talkative that night, Jonathan had been able to make it to the door before the thugs took notice and gave chase. Obviously they hadn't caught him, or he would be locked up here. At least Rick hoped that were the case. He could only pray another one of his friends hadn't been killed, but this was Jonathan. He was clumsy, but slippery enough to escape death on many occasions. Right now he was probably hiding in some tavern or small town or something. Whatever the case Rick hoped it was far from here.

A creaking sound filled the air and Rick sat up, turning to see who was coming for him. "Well, finally," he groused, shoving his arms between the cell bars and looking up.

The man was tall and a westerner, with silver hair tied back in a ponytail and dark eyes. He was dressed finely and wore an expression halfway between amused and irritated. "Greetings, stranger. My name is Jorin," he said in a calm, sophisticated voice touched slightly with an accent Rick couldn't place. "I am going to ask you a question and for your sake I hope you answer right. Are you with Imhotep, or against him?"

Rick leaned his head back and wiggled his fingers absently, trying to figure this man out. "Can't a man just try to live without choosing sides?"

Jorin's mouth spread into a smile, the only movement he had made since coming to stand before Rick's cell. He shook a thoughtful finger and took a step to his left, then turned back to Rick. "One can try to strive for such an existence, but in the end a time comes when a side must be chosen. Never mind my question. I will ask it later perhaps. I've been told your name is Matthew, but that isn't true, is it?"

"Nope. You're right. My name isn't Matthew," Rick confessed, sitting back against the wall and closing his eyes.

He could hear the other man pacing a little and ventured a small peek through slightly opened lids, but otherwise remained aloof and cool. Jorin chuckled. "You have quite an attitude. I assume you know it's very dangerous to have blue eyes in this country."

Keeping his eyes closed, O'Connell shrugged his shoulders and decided to play a bluff. "Only if you're a certain man, my friend. If you aren't Imhotep sets you free. Even gives you a mark to show you've already been to see him." He sat up and smiled at Jorin smartly, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the fabric to show his shoulder.

At this Jorin's dark smile deepened in great amusement as he peered at the mark, then stood straight. "You don't know what that mark means, do you, Rick O'Connell?" Rick frowned and jerked his shirt back. The other man waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't let your pride be wounded. It likely would have worked on another man, but I have studied the written language of our ancient king to some extent. You see he has placed his own cartouche there, signifying you are his servant, but you see that mark below?" Narrowing his brow, Rick looked and nodded. "It means 'great enemy' and I assume there is only one blue-eyed man he would label such. You are Rick O'Connell, are you not?"

Buttoning his shirt back, Rick nodded and scratched his cheek. "Yeah. The one and only. So what does this mean? You gonna kill me?"

"Oh, hardly…hardly, my friend." Jorin came to stand right above Rick, folding his hands behind his back. "I usually forbid my city to two types of people. Those of which Imhotep is greatly fond and those whom he hates. I have no wish to draw his attention, you see. I am a mere businessman, trying to get on in the world and he is much the same. Perhaps _you_ are the same as well."

Rick grunted at that. "Okay, so you'll let me go, right?"

The other nodded his head, but there was something else behind those eyes that told Rick he was going to want something for his generosity. "I will let you go," Jorin said easily. "You have done nothing against me and being an enemy of Imhotep, I assume you will have no desire to disrupt my business. But I might have some work for you, if you're interested. You have evaded capture for nearly two years and by that mark I see you even escaped Imhotep. This tells me you know how not to get caught. Do you think you would be interested in working for me, Mr. O'Connell? I could pay you handsomely of course."

"I'll listen," Rick replied, crossing his arms. "What do you have in mind?"

He was scrutinized up and down as if this man wasn't entirely certain he wanted Rick for this so-called job, but in the end Jorin decided to gamble. "There is a rich man who rubs elbows with Imhotep. He lives in a great mansion to the north. He has a certain item that I want, a star-shaped golden key that I have interest in—as a man who studies ancient history. I want you to steal it for me. After that we can talk about other jobs I may give you, but for now this is all I require."

A star-shaped key. That rang familiar with Rick. In all the excitement of needing the Book of Amun Ra he had forgotten about the Key, having busted open the Black Book for Evy. Could this be the key Jorin was asking him to get? It had to be. "Say I agree to do this for you. How dangerous is it and why haven't you sent one of your lackeys after it? I'm not exactly inconspicuous up close, if you get me."

"No, you're not, Mr. O'Connell," Jorin agreed, fishing through his pocket and producing a key. He unlocked the door and motioned his prisoner out. "I've sent out men before, men who have never returned. My men don't desert me; they either complete their task or are killed. I can't send my own again because it would draw far too much curiosity to this area, but you…they would not question who you came from because they already know you."

"If I get caught it's no loss to you and it neatly takes care of an investigation," Rick concluded with a roll of his eyes as he followed Jorin down the short hall. "I want to know what happened to my friend who was with me," he said, looking the other over with the question in his eyes. If Jonathan had been killed Rick didn't know how he was going to respond.

Jorin shook his head and shrugged, then opened the door at the end of the hallway. Outside Rick could see a small office and a set of stairs leading up. "He got away as far as my men tell me. They lost him somewhere within the city itself, so he's around. Do you wish him to be protected?"

Rick frowned and rubbed at his shoulder as they ascended the stairs together. He could use a hot bath and a comfortable rest before taking off on some dangerous mission. Jorin looked like the type that could spare such luxuries. "I'd like him found to go with me, but if that's not possible I'll settle for his freedom of movement. I'd hate to come back and find out he's dead or rotting in some cell. You'd hate it too."

Laughing at the implied threat, Jorin clapped Rick on the shoulder. "I understand. Come and have dinner with me, Rick. I'll have my men double their efforts. If any harm comes to him I'll personally kill the man that does it. I will have a room prepared for him to stay in until you return." He smiled dangerously, his intent clearly conveyed. "So, will you do it, my friend?"

He didn't need to think about it. They would need the Key and Rick needed directions. The only problem would be in leaving without Jonathan. If Rick decided to fail to return with the Key then his friend's safety wouldn't stay guaranteed for long.

There wasn't much choice in the matter. Rick gave Jorin a sly smile and extended his hand, saying, "You got yourself a thief."

**~~~~~~~**

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya and Jorin (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Thanks to Lula for reading this beforehand and pointing out a few mistakes, which also prompted me into other tweaks that made this chapter better I think. :-O

**To Reviewers**:

**Mommints** – Where the crap are you!? More important, where the crap is more **Heroes**?! ;-) Just playin', friend. I had to make good on my promise.

**Lula** – Well, I just felt bad cause I don't wanna leave my friends out, ya know? I really appreciate my reviews very much so and would hate to make someone feel like I didn't. :-) Anyhow, I'm glad you liked Sania…she just sort of popped out of nowhere when I was writing that scene and searching my mind for something that Jonathan could do, some part he could play. :-) As for Ardeth and Evy…yeah. Well, anything for his safety, right? It would be hard to try and make someone hurt at you on purpose, but if it saves his life…so you're very right. Thanks, my friend. :-) And I look very forward to seeing the next chapter of **Endless**…it'll be great and EVERYONE should read! :-D

**Marcher** – Hehe, Evy's got quite a bit on her shoulders, huh? Poor girl…I'd just die if I had to let Ardeth go in such a painful way. I'd just die if I had Ardeth and had to let him go. ;-) Thank you very much for your compliments…I'm glad you enjoyed Jonny's friends and situation. I like to include everyone into the weave, so to speak. Can't leave my Jonnybears out!! And neither my Rickybug!

**Lady Dragon** – Oh yeah, Ardeth and Aragorn are quite alike…even in the first part of their names! They are both quite the pair and I'd kill to have the two of them in my household. ;-) Thanks for the review…things are quite distressed, huh? :-O

**Catt** – Thanks muchly! I try to include everyone from the first movies into the stories…though I'm not always successful in bringing Anck into my plots. Maybe if I ever write a prequel to this one, or some dream sequences. :-) I'm glad you're enjoying!

**Marx** – Thanks!! I'm glad you enjoyed that part…I enjoyed writing it. :-) Had to give Jonny a mission—to give Layla something to smile about! ;-) Yeah…she's got a shock coming up…wonder how she'll react. ;-) I'm glad you liked what I did with Evy's hatred towards Imhotep…I know that's what I'd be saying…even if he is the hottest thing since the Great Pyramid. ;-) "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…leave me alone! Yet…I find you strangely attractive." I hope **Hereafter** is coming along well. :-)

**Bunni** – More Neccy? Here ya go! :-D Thanks…I'm so glad he's liked. He's pretty woven into my plans, so it's nice to see people go for him! :-) Thanks muchly!

**Deana** – Of course you abandoned Ardeth! He's crying, he's so hurt! ;-) Really, though…I know…I just wanna read moooore of your awesome story. Pwease??? :-D Thanks!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks! And great chapter on **Unfortunate**!! :-) I look forward to more!


	21. Onset

**Speak Softly**  
Onset

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The day was wearing on and evening would blanket Egypt before too long. Imhotep had not said much since Ardeth departed and that was very okay with Evelyn. Each time she heard his voice it made her stomach hurt because it reflected her future with him. Her dark eyes traveled to the pack on the floor that held Ardeth's bloody, torn robe. As soon as he was out of sight she had picked it up and took it with her to Imhotep's tent. "You went far in driving him away," her master said, noticing where she had looked.

She had hurt Ardeth on a very personal level, she knew, both in mentioning Rick and in asserting Imhotep's wish that Ardeth take the cloak and leave his own robe. It was nothing but a cloth to the ages of the world, but to both Ardeth and Imhotep it was a symbol of victory over the other. She had blatantly sided against Ardeth in something important to him, causing him pain. That had been her intention even after knowing what her little comment about Rick had done, though now that she had done these things, it caused her much grief. If he hated her she would understand. In fact she prayed for his hate, for that would be what kept him away. "I know," Evy replied in a voice that was barely there. A hand touched her shoulder and she fought back the urge to recoil. If she were going to spend her life as this man's wife, she would try to maintain peace. "You never did tell me where we were going. We're going to meet the Americans, but where? Greece?"

Imhotep shook his head and gazed outside a moment, then returned his dark eyes to hers. "Your old home, my queen. My palace at London is where we shall meet with the president of failing America. Because you are my promised I will allow you to sit in while we meet and perhaps speak if you have something to say. Also I plan to have our marriage take place there. Perhaps attending will make this Roosevelt more agreeable." He made a face and tested the foreign word again with his heavy accent.

Evy pursed her lips and folded her hands in her lap uncomfortably. The idea of visiting London should have brought joy, but it didn't. England had been plunged into an indefinite winter since Imhotep had started toying with the weather. It was cold, barren and frightful in its darkness. Snow blanketed the ground endlessly and the cover of Eternal Sorrow made everything that much more stark. England's death had been one of those harsh realities of life with Imhotep.

"Now that I'm going to be your _wife_," Evy said it with distaste, "do I get to dress like a decent lady or shall I still gallivant around like a common harlot?"

Her betrothed slave-master took on that infernal grin he sometimes did and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "I would not have you dressed improperly, Nefertiri. You are to be a queen and should therefore dress and act as one. I am not your father."

_Right_, she thought to herself with a sigh. He tried to prove himself different from Seti, but as far as she could tell he made little distinction. From her memory Seti had been an arrogant and pampered brat, wanting everything his way and ruthless in his pursuit of shaping the world in whatever form he saw fit. Imhotep was no different. It was the past being relived again and if she had failed Ardeth would dare Imhotep's anger just as Imhotep had Seti's. Maybe she was fooling herself, believing he would simply walk away and give up. She hated not knowing, but she would swallow the medicine she had given herself and try to forget. This was only the first day. Of course he would cloud her thoughts like a storm.

"Nefertiri," Imhotep breathed gently, touching her face again and watching her through strangely soft eyes. It made her hostility diminish. "We are almost to the border. When we reach land again I will send for a tailor. I will not shame you in front of outsiders."

Evy nodded her head, eager for to have more conservative clothes as soon as possible. That was one advantage to marrying him. The slaves and guards wouldn't dare cast lustful eyes upon her nearly naked body ever again, or they would suffer severe punishments.

She looked up and saw the barrier getting closer. It was magnificent in appearance, what his magic could do. Beyond would be the remains of Cairo, a few buildings and the docks—the only traces of humanity left standing. Ardeth could not cross this border and endanger himself. Maybe she could convince Imhotep to stay in England for a time. Long enough for Ardeth to lose hope.

~~~~~~~

The night had a distinct atmosphere that blurred the lines between being sad and supernaturally beautiful. The air was soft to the touch, crisp and cool as they walked on silent feet and with silent lips into the desert. Ardeth drew the cloak of Osiris around him tightly and looked on the horizon ahead. It conjured strange images within his memory that he wasn't completely sure had been there before. There was something about dark eyes, a reason to be afraid and the sense of giving up everything for one purpose—his present, but not his past.

Necromancer had said nothing for long hours, but seemed to be keeping an eye on him nonetheless, with curious, sidelong glances. But he said _nothing_. Ardeth didn't feel like himself and could do with comfort that he wasn't losing his mind, even from Necromancer. He felt as chilled as he had when he had been awakened. But he knew dwelling on these feelings was not helping.

Instead he thought of Evelyn and almost immediately Necromancer snorted in contempt. "You fawn over her as if she were some goddess!" he spat, flexing his bony fingers and giving Ardeth a dark glare. "This is Heaven's beloved, who cannot think past the lust in his own heart. Oh, what an example of goodness are you."

"Unfortunately, it is not lust that troubles me, Necromancer," Ardeth replied in low tones, wishing the conversation dropped. He had to push this away, he knew. He couldn't allow himself to think on her either.

The necromancer chuckled darkly and hissed to himself, then considered his companion through sparkling eyes. "God help you, if you truly love her, Ardeth. She might want you, but her heart is divided between you and the other man, and even more so, you and her king. She will see the changes in him, see the old priest she knew as a girl. She will change him back if she can. They dine and I feel his satisfaction at having her. He will try to seduce her and succeed."

Grunting, Ardeth watched the clouds moving in the distance and breathed confidently, "She will not fall for it. She could never love him."

Sajul laughed openly at that and coughed. "Oh, how right you are. She has forgotten how to love properly. For two years her heart has been frozen beneath the forced caress of his desire, kept away from the warmth of giving and trapped inside the loveless, cold walls of being his slave. Did you honestly believe her capable of even recognizing true love after so long? She is afraid of you, afraid all men are like him down deep. How could she love you without trust? She won't love him, but lust is not unfamiliar to her."

Ardeth wondered if it would be impossible to find the temple on his own. Deciding to chance it, he stopped and turned an angry glare on Necromancer. "Where is the Temple of Osiris? I have had my last of you, Necromancer. I don't care where you go, but do not follow me. Tell me where the temple is."

"You turn away guidance for the whore, then?"

Shaking his head, Ardeth took a step toward this fiend and snapped, "This is not about…Evelyn!" His eyes widened as he realized his hesitance. What had he been about to say? It troubled him, but he tried to forget it for now and continue with his point. "There is a world out there that needs me. Whatever her motives for bringing me back, my own mission was and shall remain to free _this world_ from Imhotep's treachery. If you truly have some destined purpose to guide me, then do it in silence."

Necromancer did not back down from the angry Med-Jai that stood threateningly before him. "Oh, how like him you become. So angry and arrogant. Do you remember his life, Ardeth? I feel the troubled thoughts you are having, my old friend. I have been watching and listening, you see. Do you see the face of the woman who had you murdered?"

He was at a loss, feeling he needed this creature's help, but knowing Sajul would never hold the peace. "Shut up," Ardeth growled, heading on into the night. Imhotep he was not, and never would be. How dare Necromancer suggest such a thing? Yet the name on his lips had not been Evelyn's. He brooded in silence about Imhotep's healing, his shared life. This was too far. After everything he had taken away, he couldn't take Ardeth's own self away from him. It was a frightening prospect because he had no idea how far it would go. Things could get worse if he fell under the priest's sway. _It was a mistake to raise me, _he thought gently, picturing Evy's face.

His former friend pushed no more words of discouragement towards him. They traveled in silence, walking eastward as the darkness deepened. Ardeth had no idea where he was supposed to go, but so far Necromancer had not argued the direction.

Necromancer followed his orders well and spoke nothing at all. Midnight came and went with little ease of worry, and only then did Ardeth tire enough to make the choice to rest with a sudden need. "Here," he said, ending his stride and shooting Necromancer an annoyed glance as the creature hissed. "We'll stop here for the night."

Sajul tilted his head back and stood aloof, offering no help to the weary Med-Jai as he pulled a tent from the supply pack and settled on his knees to erect it. He felt almost too tired for the task, but was not about to ask for the aid of the monster. Necromancer didn't seem all that eager to make this trip easy on him, at any rate, and would likely decline. "Is there a reason why I _should_ make it easy?" his friend asked, ever sifting through his mind.

Ardeth stopped unfolding the tent and looked up from his place in the sand, weary of the endless waves of accusation that never came with any merit of substance. "What happened to you? Have you always hated me this much and never shown it? Did I hurt you gravely and never understand what I did?"

"Hrr. Perhaps I have always hated you, my _friend_." Ardeth hovered a moment, stung by that prospect and the memories of friendship that assailed him. This man had been very nearly his own brother. They had told each other things that no other knew and been through the trials of life and death together. He would have believed this of Rick before Sajul, almost. His former friend did not take well to that thought and kicked sand up at him. "Yes, you would compare me to that whelp, wouldn't you?" He laughed suddenly. "And we are alike, for he is angry at you for taking his woman. He left you to die in the sand, just as I…just as I would if I could!" Ruffled, Necromancer began to pace.

"And what, Sajul, have I ever done to you?" Bay demanded, wishing for the life of him this man would tell him. Up until the day he had been killed Sajul had never given any indication of even the beginnings of such bitterness. "Have I ever been anything other than a brother to you?"

Necromancer stopped his restless strides and gazed down with sudden want. Instead of answering, he whispered, "Commit suicide, Ardeth. Kill yourself." His chest heaved in desire of that thought, his fingers curled and arms pressed to his sides. The hunger pouring off this thing made Ardeth think twice about falling asleep with it anywhere near him. His voice became pleading almost, those glittery eyes willing him to such an act. "I have a knife for you to slit your wrists with. Or there is an oasis near to here, whose cool waters I will hold you beneath if you prefer. As strong as I was in life, so much more in death have I become. You would not survive if you but chose to follow me."

Those evil words chilled him in the pale dark. The longing in his friend's voice for him to do those things to himself warned him against trust, but he knew he could not make it without rest. Sleep called to him and Ardeth set his hands again to the work of building his tent. He could not let himself be ruled by fear and so far Necromancer had already turned down opportunities to kill him in his sleep. So he blatantly ignored the threatening growl coming from his friend and said in a low tone, "The next time you think about wasting your breath on such words, think twice about how you believe I will answer."

The creature bared its teeth in a hideous grimace and crouched as if to pounce, and admittedly it was an effort, but Ardeth wouldn't let himself give in to this mind game. He turned his back on the threat and continued his work. Behind him Necromancer rustled in the sand, but he did not sway. Not for anything his friend did, not for all his fear. And soon weariness took the want away from him.

When had his body become so exhausted? Ardeth's hand hit the ground to steady himself as he closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. For only one moment's rest before completing the tent. When he heard the dark chuckle and the whisper, he knew he had made a mistake in allowing himself to fall victim to sleep.

"Rest in peace, Ardeth."

~~~~~~~

It was night and that was his excuse. The other men wandered out at night, so why not he? Jonathan hopped a little nervously in place, standing there tucked in an alley with a cloak over him that obscured his features from all but the man sizing him up. Sitting on a simple chair with a table before him and an umbrella over, an aged man with silvery hair that went by the name 'Aladdin' sat with his goods and cared nothing for the thugs that ran rampant. This man seemed to take him for a fool, or so Jonathan surmised as he dug into his pocket. Mercifully the old money still worked in this terrible country. "Bloody hell," he breathed, forking through his old wallet for cash. He gave the street a glance, and then glared down at the old man. "This is highway robbery, you know."

The elderly chap shrugged and lounged in his little chair, causing the thing to creak horribly. Both man and seat had to have aged well beyond eighty. "You take it or you leave it," he replied in a very heavy accent. "I don't care what you do. But you're not getting it until you pay. I don't change prices, not for you, not for any man, you hear?"

"Yes, yes," Jonathan sighed, counting his money with a concealed groan. He had managed to save this stash back for two long years, just in case, and now he was going to have to spend a little more than he really cared to in order to purchase a certain item he knew he was going to have use for in the future. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. This man had what he needed, a rare precious jewel in the rough that couldn't go without being bought. He handed over a nice little wad of cash and prayed this man had change. "Don't the local ruffians bother you at all?"

Aladdin pushed a thick pair of glasses up on his nose and opened a small box, shoving Jonathan's precious money in, and did _not_ go for change. "I don't care what they do. I'm eighty-four. What you think I care for ruffians, huh? As long as I get my money."

Voices echoed from afar and Jonathan glanced again at the street, wishing this old buzzard would get a move on. As it was, the man slowly reached into a case beside his seat and lifted what the Englishman wanted, tilted his glasses down his nose and peered at the item to be sure it was correct. A sudden logic hit Jonathan like an epiphany from Heaven. Maybe if he were annoying this man would work a little faster just to be rid of him. He decided to ask what he had deemed a few moments ago perhaps too rude. "Ah, you did say your name was Aladdin, right?" He really did try to conceal his grin. Really, he did.

Aladdin looked up over the rims of his heavy specs with hard eyes and answered, "Shut up. Iss what my mother named me and if you don't like it, you can rot in the underworld, you pest." The old man jerked his hand up and offered the goods.

With a little chuckle Jonathan took the bottle. "I say. Didn't mean any harm, old chap. Just wondering. It's a perfectly fine name." Drawing his cloak over his face, he headed into the night to the sounds of Aladdin's mutterings concerning outlanders and the call of voices in the night. He was going to have to get back to the hideout quick if he were going to keep his head.

In the course of thinking on Jorin's thugs it occurred to him that Rick might very well have parted with his own head sometime in the past day or so. An ill-mannered tenant of Layla's little building named Esam had warned him of that possibility and of the fact that Jorin's hideout was nearly impossible to penetrate. Possible, impossible, alive or dead. These things whirled through his mind like a storm. He couldn't just accept Rick was gone. There was something impossible seeming about that. That just wasn't how this world worked.

Or maybe it was. He hadn't been able to pry much out of anyone about Layla's sorrow, but he gathered something really wrong had happened, something having to do with these local criminals. Her husband had died in the war with Imhotep, though. That left Sania's rumored sister. No one would talk about that and given Layla's tone that seemed the fresher wound.

People died and that was just a fact of life. Layla seemed wracked with grief, Ardeth had died _twice_. Evy was being abused at every turn by an evil madman. These things weren't supposed to happen to them. They were the heroes. They were the ones who had brought Imhotep down the first time. But in all the pain of this place, why shouldn't Rick have found peace? Jonathan uncapped the bottle he was clutching and took a quick drink before proceeding across a vacant street. "Who am _I_?" he whispered to the darkness surrounding him as another alley covered his path. Who was he to have the responsibility of saving the world thrust on his shoulders? That question bothered him a little more than he actually let on.

He ran from things. In a little under two years he had watched his sister suffer with Imhotep and while she claimed the priest rarely ever touched her, Jonathan wasn't sure whether or not to believe that or if the numbers mattered in the long run. Evy wouldn't reveal such personal pain to him. If he hadn't caught Imhotep leaving her quarters that first night he wouldn't have known to go and check on her. He wouldn't have found her lying in her bed with tears in her eyes. Jonathan took another drink. She would likely have hidden it to this day.

If it had been O'Connell they would have escaped right after that, if not before. If it had been Ardeth with her instead. Why had it been so hard to try and grab Evy and shove her out the door one of those nights to run away? Fate had trusted him with the job of keeping his sister safe and by all means he wanted to do it and do it right, but just who was he? He hated that he was a runner. He hated the memories and the doubts.

He didn't consider himself a stupid man by any means, but he just couldn't figure out why facing the world's monsters came hard for him. Why was he now finding the thought of trying to rescue Rick a bit fearful? He just had no clue where to start, which was why he had been a wanderer all his life. His intentions were good. Jonathan genuinely wanted to play the part of the hero and come through for his friend and for his sister, but that pesky start eluded him. And the 'what ifs' concerning possible failure.

Hearing two men speaking nearby, he came to a stop and ducked into the shadows with his breath held. They spoke in tired tones and said his name once. They were looking for him. "What's Jorin want with this Carnahan, anyway? It's not like he needs him. O'Connell'll get the job done easier if it's just him and not two of 'em." That perked his interest. What was this? A little chance at redemption for old Jonathan?

The voices crept closer. "O'Connell wants him found for his own safety. Seems he doesn't trust us." The thug laughed, then quieted with a long exhale. "Anyway, I say we just go back. I'm sick of this. Little American wants his friend, let him do the job and come back to find him himself, eh?"

"Yeah."

They passed the very alley where Jonathan hid and he watched them go, wondering within what to do now. _Someone up there must still like me,_ he thought and thanked God for imparted knowledge. But what to do with that knowledge? Go with O'Connell or stay? By rights he should have declared himself, but after getting to know Layla, he wasn't so sure. O'Connell was alive and well, even had himself a job. Those thugs had suggested Jonathan's presense would get in the way, that Rick was only doing this for his safety, as well.

Well, safety could bloody well wait. Rick knew where to find him and they would catch up with each other sooner or later. He appreciated the thought, but Jonathan didn't want his safety bought for him right now and there was something he felt he needed to do right now. His good fortune seemed to be pointing him in the direction of staying out of this business, for not only did he know O'Connell didn't need rescuing, but he saw other people that _did_ have need. Little Sania had no one but her waspish mother and by God if there was something he was good at, it was women. A little of his charm might go a long way in making Layla wake up and take notice of the daughter she _did_ have.

Plus there were the cookies in his left pocket.

~~~~~~~****

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya and Jorin (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Hmm…:O I'm having trouble with the other fic…so I'm posting what I have ready, which is this. :-O

**To Reviewers**:

**Elizabeth** – Thanks for the review. :-) Sorry it's not Rick/Evy, but I'm glad there's room at ff.net for all ideas and tastes. :-)

**Lula** – Holy cows, that's the longest review I've ever seen! Hehehe! Thank you muchly, my friend! How much can I put Ardeth through? I could put him through another 50 years of hell if he were real and willing to marry me! ;-) Lol. Hell and Heaven, a mix of both. But yeah…I mean Immy to be smug. I do love him, but I love him both nice _and_ evil. ;-D He's very sexy when he's being a jerk. Thoughts of Ardeth naked, Lu, you're going to get me into trouble sitting here, losing myself to daydreams like that! My parents will come up and find me unconscious on the floor with a dazed, happy look on my face! Thank you very much on complimenting my descriptives…but my friend, you _do_ write that way and better! I know Evy was kinda mean, but she haaad to! *sniff* For the sake of Ardeth's life! ;-) Plus, you know, angst is gooood. ;-D AS for the breakage of the armage, well, I hadn't thought of it…perhaps I'll have Ardeth give it a mention to someone at a later point when he explains to someone who Neccy is. :-D Thank you for singling out that part you posted…that's one of the ones I revised from the original before posting. As for outdid myself, well, I know it's a lot more work than the other ones, that's for sure. I think at the end of this installment I might just fall off my chair. Lol. Thanks, my friend!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks. :-) I know…poor Evy, having to give him up like that. I'd make Immy's life a living hell. ;-)

**Jessie-C** – Thank you very much! :-) That's very kind of you! I hope to see more of your story soon…maybe tomorrow since you post pretty quick, eh? :-D

**Deana** – Thanks for the help and suggestions, you rule! Come on, who would rather be alone than have Neccy with them? ;-) Lol.

**Marcher** – You're too kind to say that. :-) Thanks, my friend, for always being there with my stories! :-) I heard the wind whisper somewhere the suggestion you might be writing sometime in the prolly past by now…hope to see more of **Captain**. :-D That story is awesome!

**Marx** – Man, now that gives me a thought. Someone needs to send Ardeth a bottle of Herbal Essences…like when I'm on the other side of the wall (or even in the same ROOM) while he uses it. ;-D Could you imagine how that would sound??? *faints* Thank you so much for your reviews and for the inspiration that started me on this. :-) And uh…well, don't worry…I have things for Jonny to do. :-O Speaking of inspiring…I hope **Hereafter**'s somewhere on the horizon or I might snap and start whittling guns out of soap! Lol. ;-D Well, I might do that anyways for the novelty, but you know. :-D


	22. Bound

**Speak Softly**  
Bound

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~__

_He was in the dark. He felt as though he had not truly lived in ages. His body felt charged and his senses hunted that which they sensed with a vengeance unlike mortality. It consumed him, these feelings, as he drew himself off of the stone bed and onto the concrete below. The sound washed him like a freezing bath, bringing burning and sensation. His knees buckled and he dropped weakly. He did this alone._

_Confused and afraid, he pulled himself up and fought for air a moment, wondering what under the sky had befallen him. The darkness called to him, pawing at his body in a strange lust he had never before been stalked by. He could never recall a time when his emotions had been so unbalanced, so lost and bittersweet. But what was missing from him?_

_His body trembled and his heart pounded. Everything tingled from head to toe, everything saturating the everything around him. He didn't want to leave this place. Surely outside he would find the gates of hell waiting for him._

_Imhotep blinked in the darkness, feeling as if he were both dying and being born at the same time. His footsteps were loud and the scent of the air dusty from not having had movement touch these halls in long years. He felt of his clothes, finding strange things covering his body and a weapon at his side. Was Osiris finally bringing punishment upon his High Priest by driving him mad?_

_He pressed himself forward and without knowing how, followed the path out of this place without error. The brightness at the door was terrifying, burning his spirit with unfathomable grace. The priest turned away and thought about staying in this place of death forever. Anything to hide the beauty of what he would find out there._

_What should he fear? He was Pharaoh, ordained of the gods—a god himself in every respect that mattered to the people he ruled. Yet he could not deny to himself the dread spreading through him. Imhotep forced himself to calm and turned to face the piercing light. He found the exit and stepped into the daylight._

_Life screamed around him, clawing at his mind like frantic slaves seeking escape. The world looked barren and dead, but the life that still breathed here was more beautiful than he thought he could endure. He had never felt his spirit so filled, even before the curse. It drew tears to his dark eyes, but he refused to shed them._

_Imhotep looked down at his body and saw the clothes of his enemy wrapped around his limbs. He held his hands up and looked—they were his. No long hair fell to his shoulders and his amulet was still where it should be. What insanity was this? Unnerved, Imhotep threw his hands by his side and stormed down from the burial grounds of his enemy, refusing to give in to his fear._

_When he reached the labyrinth he cursed, uncertain as to whether his own spell would kill him if he dared place a foot on the deadly stones. Yet what could he do? Remain here? That was not an option. He had to get to the palace and see what awaited him. Was Ardeth Bay now ruler and king?_

_That curiosity drove Imhotep forward. He took a slow step onto the stone and was relieved to see he still lived. _I will not live his life_, Imhotep determined within himself, stalking through the maze. He did not know what this was, a vision or hell or worse, but he would conquer and bend it to his will as he had before._

_It was that which kept his determination in place and the awful emotions at bay. This world was touching him somehow, bleeding its grace into his empty heart and he could not fathom how or why. He didn't want this, but then again…_

_The beauty was filling and wonderful. He had never felt this alive. Imhotep wanted his dreams and wishes to be reality, but if life could be this enrapturing, this holy…would it be so terrible to remain a lowly Med-Jai in love with a concubine? Another thought entered his mind at that. Would Ardeth Bay seek to conquer him? Would he suffer at the hands of his own jackals? He would not make the same mistakes Bay had. He would…_

_Imhotep frowned and pushed these thoughts away. He would go back to his palace and reclaim that which was his—Nefertiri included. He was not Ardeth Bay. He was destined to rule, to conquer and take._

_His heart broke. At the threshold of the maze he saw the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. She shivered and breathed; her blood flowed inside and even outside, marring the white of her skin with red and her life slammed into Imhotep all at once. Instantly he could see her being: beautiful, kind and pure. It brought him down to his knees and the High Priest of Osiris hit the stone wall beside him with his back, weeping at what he saw._

_Was this how Ardeth Bay had felt upon his resurrection? Imhotep found himself hard pressed to look at her, so consuming was the life pouring off of her. Yet even with his eyes closed he could sense it, flowing from her spirit onto him, caressing him tenderly like some plague where upon his body. For the first time in his life Imhotep was tempted to crawl away in fear and agony. Yet the woman called to him with her spirit._

_The high priest opened his moist eyes and forced himself to view her again as she lay there. _I will not live his life_, he affirmed in despair, fearing he would want to anyway. Things would be different for him, he would not be Ardeth Bay._

_Throwing back the Med-Jai cloak about his shoulders, Imhotep touched Nefertiri's hot cheek. "You live," he whispered, not sure what he should do with her. He could not leave her behind to seek his enemy. Not injured and laying here like a wretch from the streets. Imhotep gathered the sleeping princess into his arms and held to her for long moments, searching within himself for the answers of what should come next._

_Then he remembered. In short hours his enemy would come in hunt for them. He had to get her somewhere safe before Ardeth found her and punished them both. Imhotep looked back into the maze, thinking about the coldness in the tomb._

_For the time being it would serve. Imhotep would take her up there and plan their escape._

Awakening was harsh and lonely. Imhotep did not physically need rest, but welcomed it all the same, for the days would be too long if he did not. Far too long. Besides, it felt good to let go for a few hours and allow himself the pleasure of living life unburdened. Usually, that was, but not this time. Imhotep's breathing came hard now and his nude body was moist with sweat as he laid there a few moments, letting reality sink back in and his haziness fade. The darkness pawed at him, causing him to move from the comfort of his soft bed when he could bring himself up and stumble through his room to where the light switch was.

Illumination filled the room, proving he was still on the boat to Nefertiri's home. The nightmare had passed, the echo of life did not fill and consume him with its shaking ferocity and he was bound once again to the reality that he had created. He felt so empty now, as he always had, but more intensely. Imhotep sank down into a navy colored chair and rubbed his temples, uneasy and confused by this. He had not been plagued with one dream since the curse. Not all those 3,000 years he had been locked away in his sarcophagus, not in the years he had conquered and ruled this earth. This nightmare was not a natural event.

Just as in the dream, he had not even a vague hint as to why this might be troubling him, but knew it was tied into his enemy. At first he had not noticed the change, so pretty and pure, but then a few nights ago something occurred to him, something he questioned the very possibility of. He could feel Ardeth Bay's life. He could sense it moving in the world, fading away as the distance separated the two enemies. He had even gotten a hint of those sad, brooding emotions that filled the long off Med-Jai. The idea made him frown, for surely if he experienced this then it was possible the other had the same ability. He did not want his mind invaded, least of all by that infernal Med-Jai. Yet if he could turn this to use somehow…

Imhotep swallowed and stood, reaching to extinguish the light once more. He would not let this stop him or stall him. He would not be ruled by fear.

Yet he found that he did not want to return to his empty bed, for though he was determined, he still felt weighed down. On principle he should force himself to remain, if only to make him face his fears head on, but did it really matter? The king's eyes fell upon his linens in the small light bleeding through a full moon behind Eternal Sorrow. It looked cold and uninviting, driving his eyes away from the vision of loneliness. It was weakness, he knew, but right now he could not care less. After all, he was king. He would have whatever his heart desired, be it companionship or the very world. Imhotep turned away from his bed, threw his discarded shorts on and let his gaze take him to the glass door belonging to the bedroom adjoining his. In there Nefertiri slept and the thought of curling into her warm flesh stole him from the choice of remaining here. 

A part of him feared going in there, though, as if the dream had somehow been real. Would the vision of her bright life consume him? He reluctantly thought not and decided he would endure it even if it did. He did not wish to be alone—his days were far too filled with that terrible reality and he could stand it no more. Not tonight. So Imhotep went to the door and pushed it open quietly, thanking Osiris that a gust of light did not blind him. Inside she hugged a pillow to her head, facing the center of her large bed, and looked tantalizing to his eyes when he drew close enough to look down on her.

His student. Sometimes he was reminded of that fact, sometimes he saw her as Evelyn Carnahan. Both women stirred his wrath. Both women stirred his lusts. She had a beautiful form, pleasant and feminine, ladylike despite the shameful clothing he made her wear that she understand what Ancksunamun had lived through. Before knowing his love he would never have harmed Nefertiri, never forced sex on her as he did now, now that he knew how cruel she could be, how bitter life could be. There had been a time when he would have taken this creature and taught her the ways of men if she had but hinted at interest in such things from him, but she had not and after all, she was just a child and at the time he was not so ruthless in his wants. She was a distraction, nothing more.

But he had learned how wrong that was. Nefertiri had become his damnation. For love he had risked everything, had taken a split second opportunity to dare do something for his heart instead of duty, and his little distraction-no-more had become an oversight. She had seen him murder her father and in all honesty, he would have understood it if she had sentenced him to death. Imhotep was no fool. He had deserved that fate, he knew. But instead, she had taken her revenge to a level he had thought not possible for one so gentle as she.

She cursed him. Rameses, he would have believed this of, but Nefertiri? He had taught her the most important lessons of life and the world and she forsook it all and condemned him to the vilest of all curses, the most damning, the most terrifying. She had robbed him then of everything, much more than his mere life. She had taken away his salvation, his relationship to Osiris and any hope of redemption. He prayed now prayers he knew were never heard. He would never see the afterlife; his soul would blacken and corrupt over the ages if he failed to withstand the great evil. That day, under the hold of three Med-Jai, he had listened to her bitter voice, heartless and grief-stricken, proclaiming his fate was to be the darkest fate of all history. And even still it shocked and angered him, for she had taken lightly something abominable to the gods in her anger and hate. The creature of beauty had turned into a snake.

Nefertiri, that day, had become a child no more to his eyes. Evelyn was a not a child. She had been the first night, untaken and pure, but he had stolen that from her finally, after 3,000 years of it haunting the back of his mind, buried beneath a love fate would not allow him to own. For what she had done a part of him now took great pleasure in forcing his blackness upon her, drawing her deeper into his net of desire, filling this spiteful woman with the same trembling he had felt when the Hom-Dai had been done upon him. His lust was a violation of her just as the curse was of him, but in his vengeance, he did not care. He was justified by ages of knowing sorrow greater than any mortal.

Imhotep exhaled and stared hard into her face, but the anger would not remain heated. After that first night it never did. How sweet it had been, to touch innocence again. What was good now drew him as a moth to a flame in the hope of filling the ever-present emptiness in his soul. As odd as it sounded to his heart, Imhotep believed that while taking Evelyn's innocence he had lost some of his own, what little he had left. It caused him to be compassionate to her. But even if the anger did not remain and cause him to take her more violently, the coldness was still there and would keep her from ever being free. He wanted repayment, justice for what he suffered and if the gods would not give him Ancksunamun, they seemed willing enough to gift him Nefertiri. 

Would this be the seventh time he visited his passions on her? Imhotep finally pulled back the silk sheets and slid into the warmth, drawing close to her silken-clad body. Beneath the blankets his hand sought after her and found Nefertiri's hip to caress. He wanted this. He tried so hard to remain faithful to the memory of his lover and despite his dark desires, tried also to grant this princess what little mercy was left within his heart, but she was the only thing in his life he felt was personal. She was so soft when he did allow the storm of his need to overtake him and when she struggled against the pleasure it drove him all the more. He wanted this, but her innocent face stopped him now instead of spurring him on. Somehow it seemed wrong to disturb such peaceful rest, only to ask of her things she did not want to give.

This was the way of his people. Expected of a king, to have any woman he desired. The ancient Nefertiri would have understood this and accepted it, even if she would have hated him afterwards. This woman's time was different. They did not expect to be used this way and it troubled this Evelyn more than it may have the princess. Yet he supposed women were the same through the ages. Ancksunamun had despised Seti for the very things Imhotep himself was inflicting. But he buried his guilt away beneath his justifications.

He was not Seti. The situations had no relation, for he did not use Nefertiri's body roughly as Ancksunamun had confessed suffering. He had seen some of those wounds himself and healed them only to have them replaced with more. Imhotep had never injured Nefertiri in bed and spoke kindly to his conquest, encouraged her to the threshold of pleasure—if against her will—while Seti had spoken dark, shameful utterances and cared nothing for whether Ancksunamun enjoyed him or not. Seti was a hypocrite who displayed goodness to his servants, but evil to those he dominated more closely. Imhotep never lied about his intentions or masked his personality—flaws and strengths alike. She knew what to expect from him.

And aside from his compassion, Nefertiri was not blameless. She had incurred this debt of her own will and this was his right as king and as the man she had cursed forever. She made him and thus should live by his side in recompense. These were the things his mind whispered to his conscience as he fought the war between priest and pharaoh. Tonight the king in him was winning over the cleric.

Imhotep's hand grasped the soft pink satin of her gown and started to ease it up her thighs as he thought of touching her flesh. The soft whimpers and pleas for him to stop that filtered into his memory were both a whip cracking against his naked back and a soft song to his empty soul. The flimsy veil of lace cloth designed hide her from him was all that stood in his path and Imhotep gripped the band, easing it down the curve of her hip with building desire, but he could not continue. His hand froze each time he tried to bare her. 

Drawing his hand from the band of cloth he rested it on her and rubbed softly as he watched her sleep, undisturbed and unafraid. Without hatred of him. This mating was not enough anymore, though why that was confused him. It would feel good, hotter than fire for the night, but when dawn came he knew with it would come also weariness of the dark. He saw now in the light of her face just how hollow these victories were. And he cursed the dream that had opened his eyes.

He did not want this. Not this way, not again. He would not awaken her to something that would cause her fear as he had the first time. Better to wait until when he could prepare her, perhaps to be willing…a time when he could seduce her and savor what would happen. The better conquest, now that he could see it, would be to win her will, to steal her fear and cause her to want this, to enjoy it and enjoy him.

To make the dawn worship the dark.

~~~~~~~

Sensation slowly began to dawn into a body that was moments ago paralyzed in dreams and a groan pierced the silence—a lowly sound that was still shrouded by the last few shadows of sleep. Ardeth still felt fuzzy and the images in his mind were clouded and mixed, but the ache in his left arm was becoming all too real. "Did you dream well?" asked a voice that snapped him back into the here and now.

Opening his dark eyes Ardeth saw the form of Sajul sitting beside him, his deathly gaze fixed upon a task below, soothed and calm as if he were lulling a sick child to sleep. Unnerved by this he tried to move, but was startled to find he could not. His wrists and ankles were tied tightly with ropes from the tent and this fiendish horror was using a blade on his bared arm. 

Ardeth jerked away, cutting himself further in the process, but Necromancer's hand was quick and his strength great as he slammed him back to the sandy earth once more to continue his terrible pleasure. "Don't test my strength. You will fail," the creature warned and Ardeth glared back with wide, blazing eyes.

"What do you think you're _doing!?_" he shouted, shaken by this awakening and even more bothered by the fact that Necromancer had been able to violate him so without his knowledge. How could he have gotten ropes around his wrists without Ardeth's feeling it?

"Does it scare you?" Necromancer asked in a whispery, breathless tone as he lifted the knife to show off his bounty. Blood trailed the gleaming blade like a single scarlet raindrop and the creature hissed and laughed when the trickle spilled over his white fingers, burning him. The offending hand jerked in pain, but the creature seemed too pleased to care at the moment. "Does it frighten you, Ardeth? You're not as safe as you would like to think, my brother."

It did frighten him to wake up so vulnerable. Again Ardeth tried to pull himself away and again his effort was met with failure. Necromancer laughed and yanked at the ties binding his wrists, drawing his victim closer. Thrashing when the knife came down on him again, Bay groaned as the blade sliced through already wounded skin. Sajul held him firmly down to the sand as he slowly traced unknown patterns into his flesh.

When it was done the Med-Jai found himself out of breath, tense and uncertain. "You would do this? You would kill me like this?" he hissed through the aching and fear. A third jerk away from his captor aided Ardeth to his knees, but the ties around his ankles threw him to the ground once more as he tried to get away. Necromancer watched him struggle a moment, working at the bindings on his wrists, but a quick yank of his leg brought him all the way down.

Sajul was up and hovering over him in a instant, violent and uncaring as he flipped his friend to his back and scraped the knife down the length of his arm. Writhing against the onslaught and the fear in his heart, he cried out. "Don't panic, Ardeth," the creature rasped in amusement, affirming his hold and holding off his attack until in dismay his game stopped fighting with fast coming breaths. Necromancer looked down on him mildly and held up the knife as if he were going to plunge it into the Med-Jai, but such was not his intent for the time being. Ardeth blinked and turned his head as his friend shook the knife, scattering his own blood from the blade onto his face like tears. All he could think was, _Not like this. I'm not ready_.

This unnerved him to his very core. It frightened him and wounded him unlike Imhotep's servants or even the priest himself. This was his friend that was doing this, torturing him like he was nothing; had never meant anything. As a drop of warmth made its way down his cheek Ardeth glared up and for a long moment the warrior-brothers shared eye contact, weighing each other. It was the necromancer that first broke off the unanswered questioning between them with a sigh as he let his victim go. "So powerless, so helpless and perfectly prone to whatever torments I would have done upon you." He held the blade up. "You will need this once we reach the Temple of Osiris."

Bay ripped his bound wrists away from the creature and looked down at his new injuries. "I'm not going anywhere with you," he shot with a shake of his head. He drew himself away uneasily as Necromancer's knife-wielding hand drew closer once more. Instead of inflicting more pain, however, the creature dropped the blade and untied his limbs. Immediately Ardeth's hands coiled around the other's robes as if he meant to find some means of revenge, but when it came to it he could only stare into the eyes of this beast and wonder why.

His former friend did not back down from the threatening hold on him. He merely watched and considered everything he was stealing from the other mind. "Hurt me, Ardeth. Have your vengeance."

He wanted to. Ardeth really wanted to and even jerked his friend closer, but when his eyes hit the embroidered Med-Jai cloak that this thing dared wear over his robes he knew he could not strike out in revenge. But there was something he _could_ do. Unprepared, there was little Sajul could do when Ardeth suddenly ripped the cloak from his dark form, splitting the fabric and tearing it away. Now it was this thing's turn to get angry as he clawed violently and snarled, "What do you think _you're_ doing?" When Ardeth had the cloak sufficiently ripped away from his former friend he moved to toss it aside, but that was not as easy to do as to conceive of.

It was the symbol of what he no longer had of his own and Ardeth would not allow this evil beast to wear the cloak of a Med-Jai when he could not, but nor could he just let it go. "You are not fit to wear the clothing of our people," he replied in a hard tone, instead shoving it in his bag. He ignored Sajul's furious eyes as he sifted for anything clean to wrap his arm up with. "Do not follow me." Finding something suitable, Bay wrapped his arm, stood up and looked around the unfinished campsite almost unseeingly, still shaken and trying to calm his rattled senses. Quietly he grabbed the bag Imhotep had gifted him with and went again to his knees to fold his tent.

"I will follow you," Necromancer informed him, staring through cooled eyes, his pleasure dimmed. "If I could have killed you, I would have. Make no mistake. And it was not I that pushed you into such heavy sleep. It was the curse."

Ardeth picked up his pace and shoved the remainder of his tent into his pack and looked around silently for anything he had missed. His eyes fell upon the instrument that cut his bloody, stinging arm and he thought about using it on this dark thing by his side again, but denied the impulse. Seeing there were no more tasks to take his mind from the terror of his reality, the Med-Jai pulled himself back to his feet and looked around absently, anywhere but at Sajul. "Do not follow me," he repeated and turned towards the direction they had been heading. If Necromancer followed him…

"Do not be foolish," his brother-warrior called, joining him against his warning with a dark confidence that no consequences would come of it. "You need me to get into the temple. You are bound to me and I to you by this fate. If you would see Imhotep prevented from returning to this earth you must have the Staff, unless you are willing to sacrifice your little tramp's safety for your pride." He held up the forgotten dagger and offered it freely. "No real harm has been done, except to your fragile sensibilities."

Ardeth was about to stop and end this creature's life right here and now, but inwardly had to concede that he needed this evil thing's help, though it pained every part of his soul to know this. So he quieted his soul and pride. To defeat Imhotep he would do anything; suffer anything. As soon as this being had done its job, however, Ardeth would be rid of him. He took the knife and tucked it away with the plan of using it should the need arise. This foul thing would be allowed to follow him and get him into the temple, but no further.

Whether or not the living Med-Jai's thoughts aroused any worry or anger, Necromancer did not betray. "We can reach there by morning." The creature's dark eyes washed him over, taking interest in the robe of Osiris he wore. "When we arrive it would be best if you kept your hood drawn. The temple serves as a home for some of the acolytes and a few elder priests. We may be able to pass into the inner sanctum with a well-formulated lie, but our true destination is the catacombs beneath. There they will not let you pass, for below is the great mausoleum and there only the caretakers of the dead may go. The disguise will be exposed if you try."

Ardeth turned his head to regard the Sajul, freely thinking of his distrust. To that the necromancer said nothing, but merely curled his fingers and glared at the lightening path ahead. Morning drew near and brought some comfort. "And you will follow me there, into the temple and below?" he asked.

The other drew the remains of his cloak about him as the wind picked up and blatantly ignored the question, his face betraying nothing of what might be going on inside. Instead he said softly, "Did you really think you would have a happy ending, Ardeth?" A part of him didn't, true, but yes, he did look forward to some sort of happy ending to this. If even that ending were found dying in Evy's arms for doing what was right. But Ardeth didn't dignify his former friend's question with an answer and Sajul snorted, then sighed. "Kill him, Ardeth. Do what is right. And die doing it."

He turned his head to view Ardeth as if he were seeing him as he did before, as if they were friends. The look was grave and the face so radically changed; yet the eyes were the same. "You should never have let him share your life."

There was a point somewhere in all of Necromancer's tiptoeing and while Ardeth was curious, he would not beg for it. Mist began to caress his skin as he looked ahead and down, contemplating this mission and his own mortality. The world around looked so barren and lost, almost as if it were suffering the same strange feelings as he did. It was unreal. How could there not be a happy ending for this world? This place didn't deserve Imhotep.

If he could have stopped him from sharing his life, he would have, even if that had meant death. The priest's presence was far and faint, but like a stone beneath a stream it was there, something not quite right, sleeping beneath the surface. But surely this was not as terrible as the necromancer would have him believe it to be. Surely the curse would not be able to overtake the blessing inside Ardeth. A man chooses salvation for himself and such a thing could not be stolen.

To that thought Necromancer grunted, his stance stiffened a bit and his tone grew colder. "You think you know everything, Ardeth. You prideful fool. And do you realize, friend, that if you kill Imhotep, you also will lose your life? You are bound to him even as you are bound to me."

"And why should I believe this?" Ardeth shook his head in dread of yet another battle of ill words. The constant despair from this being was wearing on him and after his rude awakening he had trouble remembering this man used to be a friend. Sajul looked down at the wetting sand almost regretfully and Bay sighed at the foolish inner confusion going on. Was this real or some sort of manipulation? _I warn you, Ardeth Bay, do not mistake me for something I am not, _he had said. His injured arm cried out for him to heed that warning whole-heartedly.

His former friend stopped him in the sprinkling, his eyes glinting as the lightening flashed and the storm neared, filling the air with the sounds of rain, wind and thunder. "All I have told you has been true, my brother warrior. I freely warn you again not to trust me to serve you and your purposes, for I have my own that I seek to further." The last was no lie, obviously, but not everything this being told him was fully true. Necromancer smiled in the shadows of the storm clouds covering them.

The rain increased, reminding him of the Field of the Med-Jai and at that Sajul gripped his arm gently and came closer, holding the eye contact. "I felt you awaken, my friend. I heard it echo throughout the underworld and I seethed inside my heart with hatred. I want you dead again, Ardeth. I do not want you to fulfill your destiny and prove yourself worthy of what honor you have been given. I do not want you hoping for a life that will never come and I tell you all these things to hurt you, that you may take your own life in despair and escape. Then shall we both have what we desire. You peace, and I the satisfaction that you failed. There is no hope."

Ardeth looked away at that, after all the words, lies and hurts caused, still grieved to hear such talk come from this man. He was betrayed at every turn and left to the wander the darkness alone and it hurt him more than he wanted to admit to himself or this creature that stole his thoughts. When had this rift between them formed? What could he say? "I am sorry, my friend, for what you have suffered. I did not ask for these things to be placed upon me and I'm not sure what makes me worthy of such high trust from Heaven." Ardeth brushed his now wet hair back and clasped the hand on his robe as the lightening flashed, illuminating the sky ten times brighter than daylight could ever hope to. "But I'm sorry, Necromancer. I will have to disappoint you." 

Necromancer's hand was thrown back at the scowling creature with that and the Med-Jai turned into the winds towards their destination. Sajul would have no satisfaction from him.

But whether or not Ardeth's strength had any ill effects on the necromancer's mood, he could not guess, and the creature did nothing to clue him in. Now silenced by the lack of need to add anything, the form of his friend returned to his side, his eyes neither triumphant nor chagrined. Just as life and his future, it simply was.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla and Sania (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: A **_big_** thanks to Deana this time around! I had been so unhappy with the original stuff I had written here with Ardeth and if she hadn't been suggesting thoughts for this particular segment, I would prolly still be put off with the flow of the story and how everything ties in. So thankee, my friend! You helped remove a thorn in my side and you totally rock! :D

Plus, I feel this is worth a mention, Imhotep sleeps _naked_! How cool is that? :O :D :D :O *faints*

Also, Also Note: I will not forget my other stories. I'm having a bit of a writer's block concerning my LOTR/Buffy muses…so it's making my crossovers a little tough to write, but I won't forget them! *sniff*

And anyway, Imhotep sleeps **NAKED**! Sorry, I just saw Arnold in his new show and well, feel really into Immy right now. ;-D Next story I might just have to kick Ardeth out of my bed. ;-) Naaah.

**To Reviewers**:

I really want to thank ALL my reviews, past and present, cause it really means a lot, you know? Gives a poor, struggling ff.net'er some heppiness. :-D

**Lula** – How about this. I'll slap you if you fail to produce a naked Arnold Vosloo at my door in…oh wait…silly me. That wasn't out loud. ;-D Thank you muchly for the reviews!!! Immy does have lots to learn about being human again…or at all, depending on how one would view his past, which I'll get into a little bit later. Neccy, I love making him a pain. ;-) Of course now it's a bit more literal, but yeah. :-D Vents those real life frustrations, such as this headache I'm developing. I might have to kill someone in a story tonight! :-O Lol. ;-) As for his hatred of Ardeth, well, I'm not sure how far it goes back…but I have an idea for when it started to be so intense, which I'll get into next installment. I've got plans for Sajul and the whelp, yepper peppers. :-D And thanks for the Jonny compliments…I think he'd be great with kids, IE: Alex and so forth, so I thought this would be a good thing for him…to help the 'common man' out. Common woman, rather. :-) Thank you muchly and I'm happy you're enjoying this!

**Marcher** – Thankie, thankie, my friend. You've always been there through my stories as well and that means a bunch. :-) Rumor, (my eyes, rather) saw another chapter of Captain up! Eeeee! I'll be reading directly after posting! :-D Thanks also for that! I love that story! I was going to mention that "past now" thingie, but see, now it IS in the past. :-O I'm happy to be reading soon. And thanks for your compliments on the Jonny part…a lot of the ground work for my stories is already done, just needs filling in and to be tied together and so forth, and that was one of the new scenes I added for my plans for him. So I'm glad it was well received!

**Deana** – I also want to thank you, my bud, for well, everything in the A/N and just for always reading and having something nice to say! Thank you for putting up with the "do my plots suck" and "is this stupid?". ;-) Means a bunch! And yes, I wouldn't wanna go sleeping with Neccy hanging about either…but poor Ardeth didn't have much of a choice. :-O There can never be too many worries for that man to endure, huh? ;-)

**Marxie** – Thank you for the Neccy compliments…muchly! I'm trying to keep everyone guessing about what exactly he wants…and sometimes, I confess, I'm not too sure either. ;-) How much CAN Ardeth take, anyway? Hehehe. Prolly not half of what us girls put him through, poor guy. As for Jonny, I do have some plans and I hope they turn out interestingly…and I hope I can cultivate them enough to fit in…I'm running into a place where I don't have as much of the groundwork done as I had for previous chapters…so I'm having to think through before posting. :-O Which was why I'm posting faster…cause I had the groundwork done as I explained, but I fear I might have to slow in posting to think. :-O At any rate, thank you SO MUCH for being here through this story and reviewing with your thoughts, both the good and the "huh?". :-D

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thank you very much for dropping me the review to let me know what you thought. That's very nice of you to say and I appreciate it muchly. :-) Hope you all think it continues to get better! :-O


	23. Foolish Things

**Speak Softly**  
Foolish Things

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Rick felt like he was worth about a hundred thousand dollars. Of course he didn't look nearly as rich as the people loading into the home of Aundre Hughes, especially as wet as he was with no umbrella, but that didn't stop him from feeling good about being clean, shaven and dressed in clothes that weren't beat up. Tonight was _the_ night and against all odds he felt pretty optimistic.

Having cased the house for a few nights from a hill off the road with a series caves, Rick had learned the guards' habits, but as fortune would have it, all that was now unnecessary. The moment he had learned about the party, all plans changed. He was taking the direct approach. Wearing his clean clothes and smiling his brightest, Rick strolled right up to the front door, knocked and barged right in, acting as if he owned the joint.

The blue eyes got him a few odd looks, but seeing as about a quarter of these people were themselves westerners, they didn't press the issue and thought he probably belonged there as much as he let on. Snatching a cracker off a plate and mingling into the crowd, Rick let his eyes do all the important work, searching for the Key as he smiled nicely and nodded polite greetings to complete strangers. But as inevitability would have it, someone stopped him halfway through the room towards a set of stairs. "Hello," the man greeted with a confused smile, taking Rick's hand and shaking it. Blue eyes lulled him into a false sense of safety that was quickly squelched under the glare of a large guard nearby. "Name's Edwin Wright. You a friend of Audre's?"

Rick nodded without a beat, still peering around for the item of purpose, and breathed absently, "Oh sure. Where is that bastard, anyway? I've been looking for him." The stranger kindly pointed to a suave, half-Arabic man across the steel and glass room, a man with slicked, black hair who seemed to be sparing casual glances in their direction and Rick gave Wright a pat, then headed straight towards the host.

Aundre Hughes appeared very curious and a little uneasy about having an underdressed stranger in his home, but then again Rick guessed he probably knew very personally only half the people in this room. With a golden smile he approached, shoved his hand into Aundre's and said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hughes. I'm a personal friend of Edwin's," he pointed, they looked and Wright was gracious enough to offer an unwittingly helpful wave, and Rick continued, "and he thought we should meet." The trick was to keep talking fast enough so Hughes would be thrown off and irritated into wanting Rick away. "See, I did some accounting for him and well, he thought you could use the help."

Hughes coughed at that and narrowed his brow in the general direction of Edwin, opening his mouth, but Rick stopped him. "Now, I know we should talk business elsewhere, but I had to introduce myself. Lovely house. You have excellent taste. Mind if I have a look around? To tell the truth I could stand a trip to your restroom, if you wouldn't mind."

Slightly ruffled and put off with this little interruption to his merriment, Aundre waved his hand and tilted his head back, snapping, "Reyhanen, please take this guest to refresh himself."

Rick looked beyond and watched as a tall woman came forward, her servant's clothes even richer than his own garb. He surmised she was a maid to this man, but she held her head prouder than that, with soulful eyes that commanded a man's attention whether he wanted to give it or not. Only when she came before him did she bow her head, but the quiet confidence never left her expression as she breathed, "Come this way, Sir."

Silently following, now a little distracted from the task at hand, he made his way through the crowd with her and was relieved when they entered a hallway alone. Something about her troubled him, aside from what ails a man who sees a pretty face. Somehow he felt that he should know her, though he had never seen her before. A face like hers he would remember very clearly.

She kept her dark eyes ahead, but the corners of her lips were touched by amusement as he kept darting glances back into her face. When she stopped before a large door and turned back, he swallowed and backed towards it when she said, "Here you are, Sir."

"Yeah, ah yeah," he muttered, grasping the handle and turning it without taking his eyes off her. Feeling sort of silly afterwards, he added, "Will you wait?"

At that those lips spread into a full, puzzled smile, but she nodded her willingness and folded her hands before her in a stance of waiting. He had to pull himself together or this was going to fail miserably. Disappearing into the restroom, Rick hastened to the sink, wet his hands and rubbed his face, trying to eat away time so he could think. All out stealing in plain view was out of the question, assuming the Key was _in_ plain view, which he fervently prayed it was not. He supposed he could hide out for the night in some closet, but that was extremely risky. Straightening from the sink, Rick looked himself over and brushed his hair back, chiding himself with, "Smooth, O'Connell. 'Will you wait?'" He rolled his eyes and glanced at the door. Then there was this maid, who would be a problem if she followed him around all night. But then again, perhaps she could be useful.

Rick dried his hands and took one more look, then exited to find her gazing out the window at the storm raging outside. Lightening flashed through the windowpane, illuminating her glossy, black hair and he stood still to watch. Maybe it was Mayadeh. Maybe that's who she reminded him of. His mind flashed guiltily from her to Evy and back to this stranger, who said suddenly in her soft voice, "Shall I take you back?"

"No," he said in a hushed tone he hadn't meant to use. He coughed and straightened a little, then let his famous grin spread across his face. "I wonder if you wouldn't be nice enough to show me around. I don't exactly fit in out there, but I wouldn't want to be rude and leave so soon."

This strange woman narrowed her brow slightly at that, pursing her pretty pink lips. "What are your intentions?" she asked and his grin increased in size.

Rick pocketed his hands and cocked his head with a shrug. "You're kinda direct. That's a good thing." She frowned and he waved a hand reassuringly as he looked around the rich hallway and played the effects of his blue eyes for all they were worth. Inwardly he kicked himself for it, too. This really wasn't the time for _that_. "Sorry. I didn't mean anything. Just wanted to take a walk. I guess I could do that myself."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head as she began walking further down the hall without him.

Rick stood still, a puzzled expression finding his handsome features. "No?"

Reyhanen turned with a smile, hands on her hips as she repeated herself and then said smartly, "You _are_ coming, aren't you?"

The ex-Legionnaire's grin returned full force as he nodded, joined her and wondered to himself how he was going to snatch that Key with her here. _The old O'Connell charm_, he decided, stepping a little closer. Perhaps with a little persuasion she could lead him right to it without being the wiser. "Reyhanen, huh? That's a really pretty name."

The tart little smile and flutter of dark eyelashes told him it might not be as simple as that as she replied, "It is a name, _stranger_."

"Oh, right." Rick stuck his hand out and grinned when she took it. "Name's Matthew Connor."

Reyhanen made a delightful guide as she listened to his stories about the Legion, her gaze knowing and amused as he spoke. Time passed quickly in her company and soon after much small talk and scouting for the Key, Rick found himself stopped by a good question. Who in their right mind would choose a false last name so close to the real thing? No one, which was why he had been certain 'Matthew Connor' would work. Only an idiot would do that. He sure felt like one right at the moment.

The hour was late, by now likely somewhere close to midnight. The party had likely either ended or at very least died down, leaving the maid and the guest wandering aimlessly with still no sign of the item he had come for. The few guards they passed had done nothing to interfere with their walk, but right now Rick silently wondered if that wouldn't have been better.

O'Connell rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to answer without landing himself in trouble. 'Honesty may be the best policy, but a white lie will save one's ass' Izzy had told him once and right now he was rather inclined to agree. He spread a half-grin across his lips and shrugged. "Rick O'Connell? Not me. I even have a mark. Wanna see?"

Reyhanen folded her arms together, her black eyes twinkling in confidence that she was right and he was an intruder. "Show me, _Mr. Connor_."

Shaking his head, Rick unbuttoned his shirt quickly and muttered, "You're gonna feel real silly in a moment, lady." He yanked the cloth aside, bearing his shoulder for her to see. "Happy?"

Reyhanen peered at his flesh with an intense gaze that almost made him blush. Those full, pink lips pursed in thought and he knew then that she understood what the marks meant. Her dark eyes raced up to his in recognition. "You're going to ruin all I have worked for here, Mr. O'Connell."

He blinked and closed his shirt up. "Never works. But will I learn?" Rick looked the tall woman over and nodded his defeat. "Okay. You got me. Are you gonna call the guards?"

She darted her eyes down the hallway in both directions, then shoved him back against a door, pressing herself against him. It was nice, actually, real nice until she turned the knob and it flew back on them. Rick found himself on the floor in short order, Reyhanen racing in behind and closing them in from prying eyes. As he made his way back up, she doused the lights and urged him to a window. "Don't be a fool, O'Connell. If that were my intent I would have called them before."

"Oh, well, gee. When you put it that way…" he began smartly, but her hand on his shoulder stayed his voice.

The maid shook her head. "He keeps the Key in his vault in the basement. Only he holds the key to that, in a small chest in his bedroom. The key to that chest is on his person at all times. Two men—usually brutes Hughes hired from the disbanded Tuareg tribe, always guard the vault." Reyhanen smiled against the pale light streaming through the window and her dark eyes held a strange mischief he could swear he had seen before. "I had wondered how I was going to get past those men. Now I have my answer."

Rick waved his hands, then ran one through his hair a bit uneasily. "Whoa, wait a minute. Who are you? You one of Jorin's men?" She didn't blush at his suggestive little leer towards the evidence that she was _not_ exactly a man.

"I'm part of a resistance, you could say," she answered vaguely, winning a grunt from her companion. "For two years I have fought to win the trust of Master Hughes that I could get the Key and take it away from here. Now Allah has sent you to me and the time has come. If I help you, will you take me with you?"

It was a lot to swallow in so short a time. What if this woman were lying? This could very well be a trap. He didn't even know who she was working for and there were factions out there that not only sought to stop Imhotep, but to replace him with their own oppressor. He couldn't allow that, but for all the world it looked like he was going to need her help. And there was that certain something in those brown eyes of hers that asked him to trust her. "It'll be dangerous," he warned her uncertainly, fidgeting with his hands and keeping an eye peeled for dishonesty in her face.

Reyhanen rolled her eyes pleasantly and nodded. "Of course it will, but you will keep me safe." Rick cocked his head with a smart look, but she didn't let that stop her from totally commandeering him to her purposes.

"Right," he breathed, heading once more towards the entrance, but she stopped him. Quite suddenly he was pulled into a hug that felt a little different than just sensual interest between them. "What, I help save someone you knew?"

She held him a little longer before backing away, then answered his question with strangely deep, grateful eyes. "You were there for someone I loved." He wasn't sure how to answer this new softness and she spared him, the light in her eyes changing to purpose again before he could assimilate the moment. "I suggest you hide in his bedroom. He has one guard there that I can distract long enough for you to get inside. I have a key for cleaning that you can use to unlock it."

She opened the door and the light from the hall made him squint. Rick was pulled out and motioned to go right. "Okay, so what are you going to do?"

"I will wait in a room. I will show you." Reyhanen took his hand as they ascended a set of gray-carpeted stairs. "The chest with the vault key is in his desk, hidden beneath a false bottom in a drawer on the right side—the lowest from the top. Break it open, wait for Aundre, do what you must, but before we go to the vault I want the greater part of the household to believe he has gone to bed. You should knock him out and leave him in his bed, then dispose of the guard somehow when you exit. Then we'll go below."

They came to the upper floor and scurried quickly through a couple of twists and turns until the woman came to a door she found satisfactory for her wait. At that point Rick stopped her. "Look, I give you credit for thinking fast on your feet and that plan is good in theory, but do these guards carry guns—loud ones? Are there walking guards around this place at night?"

Reyhanen shook her head and urged him on towards what could very well be his doom. "No walking guards, but they do carry guns. You will just have to keep him from shooting." Drawing him down another hall, the maid turned her head with an impish smile. "I trust you will not fail."

The ex-Legionnaire grunted. "Did some jerk tell you your spunk was attractive? I mean it is, but I think I've lost complete control of my situation here."

"Men who give control to their woman are sure to do better than if not," she replied absently, stopping about two thirds down from another turn.

She smiled up at him and he straightened his posture a little, letting that devastating O'Connell charm peek out through bright, blue eyes and a wicked smile. "You saying I'm your man?"

Reyhanen's little hand curled around his shirt as she closed in to presumably kiss him, her other hand pressing a key into his. "I'm saying good luck." Rick moved his lips forward in sweet expectation, but was quickly denied as she dodged and hit his cheek instead. She then raced around the corner without another word, leaving him with the distinct feeling he'd just been shanghaied.

It was too late to turn back from this. He could hear her soft voice speaking to another gruff one about a window that was stuck in one of the rooms nearby. Rick waited a little nervously, hoping this went as well as this strange girl seemed to insist it would. He had the faint idea that if he did something to wreck it she might actually hit him. And then it caught him, the pair of footfalls that lead away. Rick eased himself to the corner, peered around and saw that there was only one door on the back wall.

O'Connell held the key ready, slid to the door and unlocked it, then entered the bedroom. "Well," he breathed to himself, daring the light for a moment to find the desk. When he spotted it, he flipped the light off and padded to the right side of it. "No sense in wasting time."

A few moments went by, producing a small chest with the passage. Rick carried it with him to the bed, flopped down and went through his pocket for a pick.

About an hour of muttered curses later he realized he was going to have to have the key after all. The lock was impossible and he grew frustrated, laying the box beside him on the softness. Just how long could this Aundre stay awake, anyway? By some mercy in Heaven Rick didn't have to wait long to find out. Ten minutes passed and brought the very man he had wanted to see. When the door finally opened and the light returned, Rick smiled and spoke with the closing of the door. "Do you mind? That's kinda bright."

Hughes had entered alone and was now livid. "What do you think you are doing in here?" he spat, his hand turning the handle.

Rick was on him before he could open the door, however, cupping his hand over the man's mouth so he could maintain silence. The struggle didn't last long between them. Aundre Hughes wasn't a very physical man and therefore paled in comparison to Rick's hard-earned ability. A few well-aimed punches and Hughes was gone. Once the man was properly dumped into his bed O'Connell grew more confident in his little maid's plan. Perhaps this wouldn't be so tough after all.

Boy was he wrong about that. He did manage to get rid of the guard, but that was quite a little bit more of an accomplishment than what Reyhanen may have intended. Who was he kidding? She would probably be smirking right now at his bruises and cuts. After a dirty scuffle Rick slammed the guy's head into the wall and decided to leave him laying there instead of hiding him. So they would make up for it with speed. He was tired.

He raced down the hallway and found her waiting in her room with a sweet expression. "You owe me," he gasped, stopping to let the air flow freely back into his lungs. If there were any way on this planet this little heist could wait until tomorrow, he felt he would have taken the rest in an instant. His right shoulder was bruised up and was going to smart for days.

"I owe you?" she questioned, her eyes ever amused at his attempt at valor.

He nodded and bent over to catch his breath, humming, "Mmm hmm." Reyhanen looked at him dubiously as he flashed her a puppy-dog look. "I thought maybe a kiss would be nice, after all I _am_ saving your life here. A real kiss, mind you." Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't. She wanted to, that he could tell. Rick O'Connell knew a flirt when he saw one. "You _know_ it'll be good."

He stood up to meet her when she approached with pleasant intent. "It better be good. I suppose you've worked off a kiss." Her hand again wound around his shirt and with a jerk towards her, Rick found he was enjoying himself a little more than he may have liked.

But despite swirling thoughts of Evy and Mayadeh, he found himself pouting a little and nodding his agreement for effect. "I think I did."

"Oh, you poor baby," she soothed with a laugh, pulling him into her waiting mouth. A fiery tongue assailed his bottom lip and on further, then was pulled away almost as quickly as it had arrived. The maid winked, rubbed his cheek and then shoved his face away, leaving the room without waiting.

"You're a little spitfire, aren't you? I still might have to earn another one, you know, a _longer_ one," he informed as he caught up and followed her quick gait through the darkened home.

They arrived at the cellar door without incident, but the hardest part was just before them, he knew. Turning with a grave expression, now willing to actually include his opinion, she asked, "Are you ready? These guys are generally big."

~~~~~~~

_This was the glory he had craved after for ages. Fate had wronged him, but he was on the verge of having his suffering repaid. The world could fight him every step of the way, but he would emerge the victor and have what he so desired. This world would be his for its crimes against him._

_The night was quiet, almost too quiet for comfort. At least the tent kept him from prying eyes, for the slaves constantly stared at him in their lowly begging, but right now he did not have such luxuries as generosity. He needed people to fight and die for the future he was going to forge. And so he sat back in a grand chair, his arms draped along the arms and his body limp in relaxation as he fought for some sort of strategy in ending this battle with the Scorpion King._

_Ardeth blinked and stared ahead at the dusty tent wall, unable to stop the melancholy from weighing him down. It was ever a part of him, this deep emptiness that kept him in perpetual smothering, but over the years he had grown used to it and able to function towards his purposes. The Hom-Dai had not conquered him yet, nor would it ever. He was stronger than the curse and stronger than this earth. Stronger than time._

_But this was not his life. It affected him as though it were, but he knew he was not this thing that had risked all and lost his soul for love. He was not this jaded being that could not see himself diminishing beneath the weight of darkness. When Evelyn addressed him as Imhotep and when he replied with the priest's words, he knew that it was a dream and nothing more. Yet sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference. Sometimes he could almost forget he was Ardeth Bay and live this life, for though empty and painful, it was powerful as well. The curse was suffocatingly seductive as it consumed, offering domination to fuel Imhotep's fire. Ardeth could almost feel the world in his grasp, could almost want to fill himself with the bittersweet beauty that was Ancksunamun. Only the world crying out and Evy's frightened face kept him from staying in this world._

_The entrance to the tent opened and he sighed, his mood not set for some intruding messenger or servant. And thankfully that was not who entered. It was Imhotep's love that came and Ardeth steeled himself for the emotions to come, for they were strong and penetrating to the very core. Somewhere beneath all that infatuation with what he could not have Imhotep really did love her. "Ancksunamun," his own lips said with his own voice, but the catch was Imhotep's._

_The young woman came in with a quiet smile, knelt before him and pulled his hands into hers. "My lord." It was like a prayer when she said it, and Imhotep answered swiftly, the need in his heart moving him to action before she could speak again._

_He was down from the chair and into her arms in one fluid motion and Ancksunamun welcomed him unlike any other had before. Her eyes sparkled as she brushed a hand across his cheek and leaned forward. The kiss did more than fill his empty heart, it took it and broke it again and mended it, all in the span of a few seconds and Ardeth almost understood why this was so important to the priest, why he would give up his very soul for this. "Ancksunamun," he whispered, letting his dark eyes take her in unguardedly. "Are you fulfilled, my love?" Whether or not he could escape the emptiness did not matter as long as she were happy. But Ardeth knew, for he had his own objectivity, that soon it might not be so. Soon the curse would corrupt the last of Imhotep's failing humanity and after that nothing would touch him. He could feel invisible hands caressing up the shoulders of his enemy to find and wrap around his throat. And it almost saddened him, for Imhotep was too far gone and too arrogant to see it happening._

_"I am," was her reply, soft and sweet as one of her hands disappeared into his robe to find his side. "I see your heart, my lord. You worry, do you not? What shall I do to chase it away?"_

_Ardeth embraced her into him and sent his lips over her throat in a pleasant search for the warm taste of her skin. It caused her breathing to catch and with that, he grinned, Imhotep loving even the smallest of her reactions to his love. Anything to give him warmth in his cold existence. "I do not doubt this world will be ours." But when had that become their dream? When had love not been enough? Imhotep had forgotten, but drove for it nevertheless with need to see it done. Yet Ancksunamun still held sway in these precious last years of humanity. He would listen to her if she would but talk to him. "What do you want of me? Does this future please you? Or tell me you want to leave this world behind, find happiness in solitude and so shall it be, for I live to do your will, my queen."_

_Ancksunamun gazed back intently with a soft smile playing across her lips, her desire plain to see making him forget his previous thoughts. "The world is ours for the taking, Imhotep," she told him. He was still willing to take a step back from the edge of evil, but Ancksunamun was exactly the wrong thing for him, for her own wounds would see her leading him to the darkness, that she could be the master instead of the servant. "Is this not what _you_ want? To be free forever of bondage and the whims of another? To control our destiny and forge this world into something that is right?"_

_Those invisible hands drew closer to the source of Imhotep's life. His intentions grew further from wanting to rule in fairness and more to see his own will accomplished, for power was intoxicating. And so Ardeth nodded, knowing that Imhotep would fail._

"Do you know what he dreams?" Necromancer said almost immediately after the vision abated. Forced to take shelter for a few days in an abandoned village, both Ardeth and his unwanted guest sat quietly inside a little building that was falling apart. The storm had grown too terrible to endure for fear of losing their way, so the dead Med-Jai had reluctantly agreed to allow the wait. After they were safe inside and a fire had been built, Ardeth had become very drowsy, a sign that he would dream.

He was thankful this time that his limbs were still intact, not being shredded by his ill-favored companion. Ardeth sat up from the forgotten couch he had fallen asleep upon, rubbing his forehead as he shook off the effects of living life as Imhotep had. It was so unlike anything he had ever experienced, so dark and terrible. He pleaded with Heaven to take the insight back, but somehow he had the impression he would be made to endure. The necromancer watched him intently from a chair in the shadows, the corners of those thin lips tilted slightly in amusement. Slowly the question he had asked came flitting back into the Med-Jai's memory, causing him to unconsciously delve into the mind of the enemy on the other end of the mental link.

The priest was far away and the link now flimsy, but if Ardeth concentrated enough he could pick out an emotion here, a vision there. There was great pain involved in whatever Imhotep was seeing. Great pain and something else, something soft and private. Ardeth closed his eyes when he realized what the evil priest was now living. That was something he did not want to share with anyone, least of all this man who had taken everything from him. "He sees what he cannot have, but will try to possess," Necromancer supplied, his hiss barely discernable from the winds raging outside.

"So he does," Ardeth replied, exhaling and allowing himself to give up the anger at such a thing. There was a reason he was having these visions and that reason included Imhotep gaining certain insights as well. But why _that_ memory? That was something between he and Evelyn alone, but now it was tainted by a third person living the events.

The small fire in the fireplace flickered gently and Bay found himself drawn to watching it, letting his mind wander back into the priest's sleep. He couldn't see what Imhotep was seeing, but the feelings were there. They were brighter than he remembered, intoxicating and sweet. Imhotep was enjoying this, even though his heart felt the brokenness Ardeth had when seeing his people. He wanted this for himself, was considering what life in a dream would be like for the rest of eternity.

And then it was gone. The dream completed with the same ending Ardeth and Evelyn had found together in the sand. Imhotep awakened, now aware that he was being watched and Ardeth felt apathy towards his concerns reflected in the other's thoughts. Necromancer laughed at this and rubbed his left wrist. "Do you know what he will now do?"

The Med-Jai nodded softly, sensing the intent of the other mind. "He will try, but he will fail."

Necromancer hissed, watching ever intently, ever amused. It could be felt plainly. Imhotep's lusts were indeed now enflamed, but it wasn't enough, Ardeth could feel. He wanted a return to what he had been dreaming of, a replacement of more than a warm body. The priest wanted a willing companion who, if she couldn't love him, would fall to his seduction of her own will and lust. Evelyn had a battle before her—a battle between hope and despair.

"You think he will fail," the creature amended darkly, rubbing his hands together, impatient for the outcome of what would transpire elsewhere in the world. "And even if he does, he will try again. He speaks to her."

Ardeth remained silent, keeping his own vigil over another's actions. Imhotep's needs stirred, his thoughts bent on Evelyn and the things that would take place. He would try, but Necromancer was right. If he failed, he would try again and the Med-Jai feared someday the numbers would fall to the priest's favor.

Necromancer studied him for a long span, watching his friend watch the flames and probably sifting through every emotion. It was beyond Ardeth's care in the face of what was happening to Evelyn so far away. Too far, almost forever out of his reach. He should have fought all hell for her freedom that night he, O'Connell and Carnahan had broken out of the palace. He should have insisted and returned for her. Now she would suffer for it, for his lack of wisdom. How could he have left her, knowing what Imhotep would do to her?

"Why do you love her so?"

The sudden, neutral question brought Ardeth's attention away from listening to Imhotep's feelings and brooding. He looked up at his companion with a frown, feeling no need to justify himself to this being of evil. "You would not understand."

Necromancer followed Ardeth's previous gaze and looked to the flames. It was Bay's turn to study the other and he would have given almost anything to understand the reasons, the hate and the suffering he saw in those eyes. "I would not understand," he whispered in a voice that considered the possibility and effects of not understanding. "If only that were so."

As those cold eyes slid back to Ardeth's he was reminded of the old Sajul, who had laughed with him on the morning of his death. He saw such want reflected in the other's watch, such longing and sadness. He wanted to understand. "Why do you hate me?"

Again Sajul looked away, hiding his emotion with an attempted snort of dismissal, but there had been something in those eyes for a brief moment that made him realize just how much his friend may have suffered to become what he was. Blame, hurt, sorrow, all mingled with a curse. "For love I hate you, Ardeth. For everything I was that you bettered. For everything you weren't and everything she would not let me be. For being all she loved and leaving her to grieve so much that she could not open heart to love again. You were not all she had, but she refused to see it. You were not all our people had."

Shaking his head, not understanding, Ardeth breathed, "What?" Sajul looked at him bitterly. "Who are you speaking of?"

"You would not understand," he shot mockingly, drawing his robes around him. He drew his chin up and glared. "It is old business. Our people no longer remember either of us. These cares do not move the dead."

His expression said he would keep whatever was on his mind just where it was and no further. From his words Ardeth could piece together that Sajul had been jealous of him, but this woman he spoke of escaped him. He had never been any woman's all, none save perhaps his sister but that certainly never meant anything other than their sibling relationship. "Was it Arya?" he asked gently, looking to the aloof creature across the room.

Necromancer glared death in the darkness and wrapped his arms across his chest. "Shut up, Ardeth."

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: :O Here is more…hope you all enjoy! And I hope these chapters aren't getting too long…I condensed two Rick scenes into one to sort of hasten future action so it doesn't drag out among many chapters…hope that was a good choice. :D

**To Reviewers**:

**Jessie C** – Thanks! I hope you enjoyed! :D

**Marxbros** – Evy wasn't Evy in Inescapable???? :O *sniff* Thanks for the review…I may or may not continue that story on the soon…hehehe. And thanks for reviewing this one, naturally. Don't you just love when ff.net cuts out right when you've done something and hit submit? :O Thanks for your continued compliments, I feed off them happily ;-) and I look forward to seeing more **Hereafter**! ;-)

**Deana** – Thank you muchly for the review, my friend, and helping me discern what's lame and what's not. :D Much appreciated. You rock! (Oops, that came out rick first time around :-) Thankya muchly!

**Mommints** – Thankya thankya, my friend! :D Glad to see you back around ff.net with even a new story up your sleeve, no less. Excellent, excellent! :D Thank you very much for your compliments…they are mine, my own, my precious! I mean, yes. They help me know I'm doing okay! :D

**Lula** – You'd better say 'our'! *sniff* I wuv Ardeth and he has to be mine at least some of the tiiiime! :O BTW, did you say Immy sleeps naked? I'll have to get a look at that! ;D Mmmm. I'm glad they didn't see fit to make Imhotep ugly…it just wouldn't have been the same if he weren't Arnold Voslooooo. :D Thank you for the review and your call to know what happened prompted me to add that bit at the end of this chapter…as sort of a hint as to some of the reasons Neccy's got such a problem. :D I'm glad you're enjoying my Neccy…I like vicariously being evil through him in my writings. ;D Thank you thank you!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks! It's my hope to convey some feeling-bad for Imhotep…cause after all, I wuv him and he needs some credit. *sniff* Just a moment's understanding. :D Thanks muchly for your continued compliments, you totally rock! :-)

**Marcher** – Yeppers…a brand new weakness for Imhotep, among other things. :O Thanks for your review and mentioning the interaction between Imhotep and the sleeping Evy…I had worried that would seem too much, but I think it wasn't, so this is good. :D As for that Club Med deal, well, I'll just take Ardeth there myself. ;D Ah, if only there were a true matrix out there, where I could have him for real. *lesigh* Anyway, thanks for the compliments…if Neccy gets a bit Gollumish I'll take that as a compliment, since Golly's cool! :D


	24. Another Step Closer To Darkness

**Speak Softly**  
Another Step Closer To Darkness

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Outside the never-ending storm raged, as it had non-stop all the day before, today and up until this fine evening, and Jonathan sighed pleasantly, knowing that were he still in the palace, he would be out slaving away in it. Right now he could think of about three men who would be passing away the time by plotting away Imhotep's demise and the thought made him smile. Wistfully almost, as if some part of him missed it there. Oh, he wouldn't dare say he enjoyed his life as the king's slave. The bad far outweighed the good. But there had been some interesting times.

Well, times hadn't grown short of interest with his move—that was certain. Despite his initial impression of the place, these poor people did welcome him here for as long as he needed. They knew well the suffering of the people and as proven over the ages, those in need seemed to understand just how precious kindness could be. Even Layla had toned down on her snappish ways, which he definitely attributed to his charms. Hadn't smiled though. Jonathan sat there against the wall in the kitchen listening to the howling winds outside as her daughter absently dug through his bedraggled jacket's pocket, her expression growing disdainful when she found his small bottle of liquor.

"That's right," he agreed, snatching it back quickly before her mother came in and saw. She had given him a little talking-to when he had returned the other night with it in plain view in his hand. "Stuff's nasty. I don't honestly know why Rick makes me carry it for him, but you know friends." His blue eyes rolled quite dramatically and Sania giggled, returning to her search while he took a swig of the milk her mother had offered about ten minutes ago, before disappearing again into the depths of this sad little building. Jorin's men were still on the prowl, scouting for him and generally causing trouble along the way. Of course Jonathan wondered why these people stayed at all, but he guessed any port in a storm was definitely true of life in Egypt. There weren't many places _to_ go.

Unbeknownst to him, Sania had gotten a hold of his old wallet and was now digging through it instead of his pocket. The missed feel of having his jacket being tugged came to his notice, however and he looked across the table as grimy, little hands opened it and rummaged around. Her dark eyes became thoughtful as she browsed through his pictures. Before he could stop her, Sania removed one from its little jacket and held it up questioningly.

Jonathan leaned over and took it with a smile, seeing which one it was. It was of he and Evy, taken before their first trip to Hamunaptra. She hugged her arms to herself and shook, a gesture that meant several things he had learned, from wanting a hug to liking something. In this case he supposed she might mean Evy was pretty. "That's Evy, or 'old mum' as I like to call her because of her bossiness. She's my little sister. A bit daft sometimes, but that's to be expected I suppose." He sighed and gave the picture back just as Layla came in.

Sania put the wallet down and got up from the table to grab her mom's skirt and tug. When the tired woman looked down, Sania handed her the photo and made a gesture he had never seen before, of rubbing her hand down her face. To his complete surprise, instead of saying something cynical or asking about it, Layla looked at it gently and then turned her eyes to his. "Your sister has a kind face," she said, handing the picture back.

"Oh, is that what that means?" he asked, slipping it back into his wallet and tucking the wallet back into his jacket. He leaned back in the chair and smiled up at Layla's brown eyes. "Yeah, she's a good old girl, too. Much better than I am, anyway."

Sitting down, the woman eyed him for a moment and may have spoke, but for Sania's insistent demand for attention. Looking her daughter over, then exhaling, she turned and Jonathan looked down at the honey colored table. She was beautiful and under normal circumstances he would have been gawking like an idiot, but for some reason he found it difficult to hold her gaze for very long. _She doesn't deserve to be gawked at_, he admitted to himself with a sigh. She wasn't like every other woman, or rather he wasn't like he was with every other woman. His charm was taking a while to get off the ground in easing her into confiding in him and the trouble was still beneath the surface of her every expression. He felt bad for her. "Sania wants to know what she was like."

Nodding and letting himself instead meet the child's watchful eyes, he smiled and replied, "She likes books. She's a very smart thing, too, if a bit clumsy sometimes. Can't cook worth a smile, though." He rubbed the back of his neck as Sania giggled. "I think you'd like her, Sanie. I sure do miss her."

Sania shrugged and spread her hands and Layla, with an oddly soft and curious expression, translated, "What happened to her?"

The same thing that happened to every pretty girl in Egypt who wasn't properly guarded. An evil man took her for evil purposes. Only Evy had been stolen by _the_ evil man and Jonathan found his heart sinking again with that thought. Where was she now? What was she doing? "Evy's alive, thankfully. She's a slave."

At that Layla sat up a little straighter. "_Evy_? As in Evelyn…? Of course. Now I see. Evelyn Carnahan. That's why I should know your name." Her look of softness became hard and Jonathan cursed his tongue. Layla glared at him as if he had just slapped her. "A slave, huh? You mean Nefertiri, for Evelyn Carnahan is her true name, is it not? This woman who began this, who awakened Imhotep before! We know the story!"

Jonathan's eyes widened at that and he shook his head. "Yes, she woke him first time, but that's not what started all this," he defended his sister, wondering what on earth had made this woman so angry with her. If this were the general opinion of Evy she would be crushed.

"But if she hadn't awakened him…" Layla started to retort, but he wouldn't give her leave.

Sitting forward on his rickety chair, Jonathan again shook his head and pleaded with his eyes for her to understand. "No. It wasn't Evy who awakened him this time. A woman named Meela did and I'm pretty sure even if Evy hadn't the last time around, Meela still would have."

The tanned woman crossed her arms with a reawakened scowl. Beside her Sania covered her ears and looked sad, obviously not wanting to hear the argument. "If she hadn't awakened that monster the first time perhaps Ancksunamun would not have found him!" Layla snapped with hard eyes. "And now you come here asking for help, you who started this! Have you run away from the king? By Allah, you would sit here at our table and welcome those jackals on us without a second thought!"

"You have it wrong," he said softly, knowing there was no more use. Jonathan looked away and breathed out. "Look, I don't know what made this all happen, but I do know that my sister suffers. He might not starve her or leave her out in the cold, but he hurts her just the same. I'm sorry I came here." He stood up from his chair and offered a hand to the angry woman, who declined. Putting it down to his side, he exhaled, adding, "That's my cue. Good-bye, little one. Take care of your mum." His hand found Sania's hair as he headed towards the door.

A voice stopped him, small and sweet, and he turned back to mother and daughter when Sania whispered, "My sister's sad too."

At that small admission Layla covered her face, her shoulders trembling as inevitable tears started to fall, and Jonathan could not push himself out the door. Sania folded her arms onto the table and lay her head down, those little girl eyes so grown up as she gazed at the wall in acceptance of whatever fate her sister had befallen. His eyes met the dusty floor as he hovered between the door and two girls who needed someone to reach out to them. No matter what he tried telling himself, Jonathan could not leave. Instead his feet carried him to Layla's side and his hand wandered to her back to rub softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

The woman below shoved her chair back and slapped away his caring hands as she tried to hide her grief. "Just look after Sania. Make sure she gets to sleep on time," she told him, turning away and heading towards the front room.

"Where are you going?" he asked, worried for her. The last thing he felt she needed was to be alone somewhere, especially if she meant to go outside.

Layla ignored him until his hand coiled around her arm, and at that point she turned with a cool expression, snapping, "For a walk!"

Jonathan shook his head firmly at that. "It's too dangerous! You're going to get yourself bloody killed!"

The angry woman jerked her arm back and turned away, determined to have her way and there was little he could do against that. "I've walked before and will walk again! If you care for the child, watch over her. If not, go find your bedroll and give her to someone else."

He stopped in the doorway, watching her storm towards the secret hole in the wall, then disappear. What could he have said? There seemed to be little to no reaching that woman's heart and while it saddened him, it also made him a bit angry. Little Sania sure didn't need to have the responsibility of strength thrust onto her little six-year-old shoulders, but it seemed to him that it already had. It was hard even for grown-ups in this world. There had to be a way to reach her, to show her there were things worth fighting for and hoping for. But how?

These things plagued him, but the more immediate concern right now was her safety. Not three feet away sat thirteen-year-old Kaysaan on his bedroll and Jonathan grunted, deciding he had work for the crafty kid. "Hey, Kay, my good son," he said, nodding him over when the boy looked up. "You were telling me yesterday how good you were at tracking. What do you say you prove it out of the goodness of your heart, huh?"

The boy rolled his dark eyes, that brown, tousled hair shaking as he sulked a little, but not much could be put over on Carnahan. The boy was generally a good one, even if he could be a scheming little thief. Rubbing his hands together and weighing how much Jonathan needed this done by the stance he took, Kaysaan wiggled his nose, then shrugged. "Whatcha need, old man?"

Every once in a great while Evy would bat him for calling her 'old mum' and now he was beginning to understand why. With a roll of his own blue eyes, Jonathan motioned towards the exit and said, "Go keep an eye on Layla, will you? Don't intrude, just watch, if you would." The boy nodded and began towards the door and would have made it, but for the split second choice his elder made. Jonathan whipped his hand out, pulled the kid close and whispered, "Oh, and if you get the chance, go get me a bottle of scotch from Aladdin, okay? I'll let you have some when Layla's not looking." He shoved his hand into his pocket, grabbed some cash and gave it to Kay.

Instantly Kaysaan's eyes brightened at the prospect and out he went into the storm, ready for liquor. Jonathan chuckled to himself, reminded of when he was twelve and his uncle had gifted him with a tiny swig of the vilest stuff on earth—a liquor old Lindleigh had affectionately called 'Elswyth, put me out' because that was how he had called for it for twenty years until his wife died and after that the phrase had stuck. The vodka had tasted pretty unsavory to such a young mouth, but the time spent was nice, listening to the old man talk about his father's travels. That brought a sigh as he moved himself back into the kitchen to find a crying little girl.

Pulling out a chair to sit, Jonathan gazed down and offered arms to her when she peered at him wantingly, and considered if it wouldn't just be wise to offer her some of the old Elswyth too.

~~~~~~~

Tiny lace sprinkles from stars that would never grace the night sky again settled on the window. Her fingers touched the pane as if she could somehow feel the soft flakes from inside the warmth of the car. Beyond the window the vision was barren and devoid of color, whether day or night. Now in the dark it was little more than a field of endless black, offering only the faintest glow of Eternal Night's reflection of the atmosphere above. When morning came it would be dull and gray, with only memories of burnt and forgotten homes and towns.

Egypt was sick and suffering. England was dead. Not a soul would be found for countless miles. It was a place of near exile, for only the most desperate person seeking solitude or death would make this wasteland their home. Winter never ended here, nor in the countries surrounding. The resistance had been fierce and in punishment Imhotep unleashed his magery, creating a place opposite of his home country where he could enjoy that which he had never seen before.

And in making this place so harsh and undesirable, he had created the perfect haven. His palace in Egypt was grand and its very appearance spoke evil into the heart and suggested one should tread lightly. But contrary to what one might expect, that was not Imhotep's taste. Not directly. He knew what robes to wear to invoke fear and he knew how to attract as well. His castle here in England had been one the few buildings left alone and refurbished to suit his needs.

His tastes were remarkably warm and sensual, rich in colors of gold and burgundy. It was grand and had a breath of autumn. A very pleasant effect after seeing the frozen starkness of the outside. Evy mourned what had been done to her country, but even still returning was like coming home—a changed home, but home. She could remember her childhood here, Christmases spent by the fire with Jonathan sneaking a peek at his gifts. Those thoughts were lovely and brought a smile to her lips, but even they were not untainted. If she lingered too long he would come there too, waiting in the shadows to take her away.

Imhotep slept beside her, his head leaned back against the seat and his arms folded across his stomach. He almost looked normal, sitting there in his warm wool coat, appearing vulnerable and mortal. She often wondered why he slept at all, but even still this seemed different. Him sleeping in a bed to pass away the hours was one thing, him sleeping in the car was quite another. They had talked peacefully for a while, then quieted to their own thoughts, Evelyn turning towards the window. When she turned back she had found him as he was now and tried tentative, gentle shaking to rouse him, but he did not stir.

His face appeared troubled as she looked on him now and she wondered what dreams were visiting his rest. Waking up with him in bed with her had been startling. Never had they actually slept in the same bed. He had always left her alone after the handful of times they had been together and she preferred it that way. On the boat she had awakened slowly, letting the freshness of light bathe her in its splendor—until that was, she had noticed something. Warmth on her hip.

Evelyn had opened her eyes expecting to find his dark ones boring into her, willing her to awaken so he could take advantage of her, but instead her vision had met eyes closed in slumber, his breathing regular. Sometime in the night he had come in, touched her there and had fallen asleep. Why, she didn't know and didn't want to know. Her fear for was when he would awaken.

And yet even then he did not try to have her. Evy had moved to get out of bed and escape to her changing room, but as soon as she backed away his hand dropped, bringing him back to consciousness. Imhotep opened his brown eyes with a gentle expression, withdrawing his proximity. Her fears had proven groundless. He had simply gotten up and left her alone without a word. Yet she almost wished he would have taken her. That she knew how to handle. This other side of him she did not.

Evy exhaled and gazed down at him with an absent mind, almost missing the change until it had fully taken place. The sleeping king was slow to open his eyes, as if he weren't completely returned to this world. But when he did, her breathing caught and her attention came back. What was going on in his thoughts she couldn't tell as he kept her in thrall with a soft gaze that made her shiver in fear.

She didn't even realize his hand had made a path up her arm until he started rubbing her shoulder. Then suddenly those enriched eyes closed and his mouth pressed against hers, asking to be allowed entrance. Asking, not demanding. It caught her off guard and she gave in, letting him find comfort from his nightmare.

He was shaking, she discovered. Her hand fell against his strong shoulder as he pulled her closer and she felt him tremble. Evy's head spun, for this was different from the usual, careless fervor. It was deep and gentle and frightening, to say the least. Why it should be so remarkable, she didn't know, but without meaning to she whimpered softly in need to get away. And he gave that to her almost immediately afterwards.

The warmth of his mouth left hers, but he kept her close, looking her face over in the darkness. The back of his fingers brushed gently down what she was certain was a very red cheek. "I am sorry," he breathed, his expression almost elsewhere, as if he were visiting a memory instead of speaking with her. "I should not have. I am sorry." She might have thought back and heard another voice in her mind echoing that very phrase, but he continued before her memory could call the sound back. "Will you hate me, even as I try to atone?"

Something about the question seemed important, but fear gnawed at her hope that he could ever stop hurting her and her loved ones. "I want to hate you!" she hissed truthfully, pulling herself as far away from him as she could. A few tears raced down her cheeks, unbidden. "You've done so much to me. You took everything. You took…_everything_." Evy curled her arms around herself and wiped her cheeks.

Imhotep did not recoil from her rejection as another man might. Rick would have, she knew. She wasn't too sure about Ardeth. But the king never did. He presumably did not care, either that or knew better than to mourn that which he deserved. His hand found her back, rubbing soft circles as he exhaled and gazed out his window.

Evy leaned back into his arm, allowing him to comfort her. His patience seemed thicker than usual, even more than the peace before Ardeth and she supposed to try it would be foolish. She wanted to hate him forever and endlessly, but sometimes it wasn't easy. By no means did she like who this man was or bear him any love, but his spark of humanity kept things gray. She pitied him for his pain. "Remember…remember that time Jonathan was on about the head stonecutter, waving his arms and just generally being careless, when he flung his hand into your water cup, causing you to spill it all over yourself?" she asked in a hushed voice. Not looking away from the window, Imhotep nodded and she brushed her hair behind her ear. Her eyes hit the black seat across from hers.

She allowed herself a tired smile in the shadows. "The expression you gave him was so unbelievably angry. I honestly thought you were going to kill him. He looked positively wretched, trying to clean you off and babbling about being an excellent worker and you couldn't live without his services. You didn't kill him, though. I remember standing up from my chair to race over and beg your forgiveness for him. But you beat me to it, shoving him away with this disgusted growl that faded as soon as your back was turned." Her eyes grew distant. "He didn't see you smile as you headed from the room to change, but I did. The irritation was still there, but you couldn't help but find his antics amusing."

Imhotep faced her now with a thoughtful expression as she turned back gravely. "That's why I can't hate you. Not fully. I despise what you do and the depths you allow yourself to sink to, but, Imhotep, I can't help but remember you giving me that same exasperated smile when Nefertiri hadn't remembered all of the Hebrew you were trying to teach her." Beneath the curse there was still a human.

He cringed at that particular memory, his handsome features graced by a smile. "What was it you said after I called you a foolish day-dreamer? You said I was a 'stoic, self-righteous, old man,' but you got the Hebrew words mixed and called me a woman?" Imhotep laughed and shook his head. "And now my little student is the master of four languages and she speaks them all fluently. Perhaps one day I shall teach you the remaining languages of old and you may teach me your English and Arabic."

"Perhaps," she echoed, exhaling as he rubbed her back again. Evy again brushed through her hair as things returned back to the matter at hand. She had stopped asking herself where Ardeth was last night when it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was going to marry Imhotep and live as his queen. Of course she had understood that from the moment she agreed, but his casual talk of a wedding dress had startled her into reality. "Imhotep, please. _Please_ don't pretend to care out of some manipulation. You have every advantage right now, I freely admit. I want to hate you, but I feel…I hurt for the relationship that was lost. I hurt for the man inside you that's being smothered by the curse. You say you want to atone and I want to believe you. But if you turn on me again…" She trailed off, knowing that last was inevitable. He would at some point become that monster again, change or no. It was his nature.

But for now peace could be peace. Imhotep grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, closing his eyes against the atmosphere washing over the car. It was timid hope…on both their parts, perhaps. "I will not turn on you, Nefertiri. I only ask for the same. If you refuse forgiveness, then do it openly now. Do not promise it and then betray me later. For yours is not the only heart that mourns. We can be friends once more."

Evy nodded softly, offering him a smile in the dimness. "We can be friends."

Those shadowy eyes looked her over again, but this time not in lust as usual. They were pleased, but openly welcoming. It made her stomach hurt. She knew compassion in any case was the right thing, but this path wasn't as clear as the others she had traveled. There were trees and twists and turns that obscured the destination from her sight.

Evy swallowed when he looked down from her and asked in a husky, pleading voice, "May I sleep in your bed this night? My rest is troubled and I do not wish to be alone."

~~~~~~~

The morning was softly lit and lonely, the air humid and the sky hopelessly foggy. Two companions full of loathing trudged along in silence, giving way for troubled thoughts—though to his credit, Ardeth did try to distract himself with half-hearted contemplation of meaningless things. Right now he was wondering to himself just how thick Eternal Sorrow was, whether or not planes could penetrate it and if it would disappear once Imhotep were defeated. He fervently prayed so.

How in two years had Imhotep managed to damage this land so greatly? Two years could seem a long time, but in the grand scheme of things it really was nothing more than a moment. Yet in that time he had brought poverty and suffering to his people, not to mention what may have happened outside of Egypt's borders. The land was marred, for without doubt just as Evelyn had said, there had been not one minute where the sun could freely touch the earth. Did Imhotep not realize that without the sun, the plants would fail? Or even if they didn't die out in the sickly light offered, they would not thrive. No wonder his people starved.

Which lead Ardeth back to his troubled thoughts. He was to defeat Imhotep, but what of after? Who would pick up the broken pieces and mend this world? Had Imhotep killed the high-ranking officials? Doubtlessly there was not a form of government left in the whole of Egypt that once matched that which was before the terrible priest. This left the possibility of ruthless others setting up their own governments, forcing the people of Egypt into no better a situation than if he were to leave Imhotep to rule.

And not all bodies of society fail when their kings are killed. If Ardeth managed to kill the priest, what would be left behind? His underlings? The magery and jackals? Beside him the necromancer snorted, his arms tucked in his ragged robes and those ever-gazing eyes trained ahead. "Do you just now consider these things? Do you just now realize how hopeless this battle really is?"

Ardeth wrapped the cloak of Osiris around him in the chill. "I have considered them."

"Yes," Necromancer agreed, rummaging through his mind again. "As you lay on the sand dying. I see it now, Chosen." Those foul lips curved into a soft smile. "You were thankful it was over. The great burden lifted from your shoulders. And in that you felt shame."

The Med-Jai concealed his irritation over that statement fruitlessly and replied, "I am a man, not a machine. I will do whatever I must and in that there is honor, for I do not back down from duty as some do." His other thoughts, the accusations that had been forming in the back of his mind, he did not conceal.

Necromancer hissed darkly at the unsaid things he was hearing from within the mind he was violating. Those pallid hands curled—a sure sign the creature was now agitated instead of amused. "Put words to what you are thinking, Ardeth Bay! Be man enough to accuse me outside of the confines of that oh-so-precious heart of yours!"

That Ardeth fully intended. He did not have the luxury of stealing this being's thoughts, but if his hope was correct, Necromancer was likely seething in a more personal way than he let on. "You were a good man, Sajul. Of that I make no argument. But in your words I see what I missed when we were both alive. What you did was for you, not others. You did great things for our people, but now I realize just how much you did not do. You were selfish." Ardeth inhaled deeply and waved a hand before his growling friend could speak.

"We are all selfish, Sajul. I am not immune to it. I felt relief that the burden had been lifted. But I was also saddened, because I knew these people could suffer for that. You did what you had to when we lived. But not without repayment. I think this thing you have become is not as much born from what Imhotep did to you, as much as it is an amplification of what you were." A major amplification, to Sajul's credit, but he could see little things in his past that made this new creature not all that hard to understand. Ardeth turned his head to get his answer, hoping he had shocked some of the old Sajul back into this thing's miserable mentality.

The reply was harsher than he had counted on. "How dare you!" Sajul screamed at him through blind rage. The creature stopped in the wet sand and stretched hands with curled fingers. Bay backed away, but Necromancer was too livid and too quick.

Sajul attacked, rushing his former-friend with inhuman claws extended. Unprepared for such ferocity, Ardeth fell back onto the ground and gasped as the creature dove onto him. With no weapon handy the fight was on Necromancer's side as the creature slashed at his arms, bared when the sleeves of his robe slid down. Both man and monster cried out as Ardeth's blood was spilled by treachery again, but the pain did not deter Sajul. "How _dare_ you make that accusation? You do not know what happened after your death! You do not know what Arya and I did, what was suffered, or how I gave myself up for her! Selfish, was I? Unwilling to give without compensation? For love I suffer this hell! Curse you, Ardeth Bay!"

"I am sorry, my friend," Ardeth tried to say amidst the blows being rained on him. His fervent hope had been that there was something of Sajul left and now the proof came to the surface inside the rage of Necromancer.

But whatever was left of his friend could not triumph over the evil surrounding. Gripping the creature's wrists did little to hold back the greater strength and when Necromancer pulled his hands away he coiled those cold, dead fingers around Ardeth's throat. His claws dug into the skin almost to the point of drawing blood as he rasped, "Would you have had them make you king, Ardeth? Would you have led them from the darkness after Imhotep's defeat?" He laughed and squeezed tighter, blocking precious air and invoking a well of panic in his captive. "The great evil here is uncontrollable. There are things in this world that will not die away with the priest, as you shall. You will never enjoy a future! Evelyn will suffer because of your love and even if you and the priest pass on from this world, the victory will never be complete because you are only one man against legions! Let me kill you, Ardeth! Accept it!"

Ardeth batted dizzily at the man above, trying to free himself from the bruising grip that was strangling him. Necromancer's eyes glinted as he savored his friend's suffering, but just as the Med-Jai thought he would fall unconscious, he was let go. Laughing, the dead thing yanked himself up from the sand and ignored his companion's breathless coughing. "Live, Ardeth. And fail anyway."

Gasping with closed eyes, Bay lay there a moment longer as the other stalked away, that amused hiss fading with separation. He couldn't even think past the grateful feeling of drawing breath again. His throat throbbed where Necromancer's hands had been and his arms stung. "But the healing would begin," he whispered, or thought or both, knowing hope had to start somewhere. His purpose was not in vain. Necromancer ignored his determination.

"Shall we rest more? Lose more valuable time while the pharaoh tempts your woman?" he drawled sarcastically, not bothering to face his former-friend.

They couldn't rest. Ardeth felt a little queasy and could have stood a few moments more, but he was in a land where mercy did not exist. His hand still protectively near his neck, Bay stood up and joined in silence. He had nothing more to say to this monster and looked forward to being rid of him as soon as this partnership was complete.

As it was, the trip ended not long after. Hidden by hilly dunes, they did not see the Temple of Osiris until they were nearly upon it. Necromancer stopped him with a hand to his shoulder as those dark eyes staked out their goal. "Draw your hood and say little, and keep your bleeding out of sight!" Ardeth glanced down at his aching arms and fought back a retort on his companion's self control. Necromancer ignored his thoughts. "Do not ask entry, simply take it. I will feign illness and when asked for your purpose, you will answer that you have come to bring me to the care of the priests, for I am sick with the plague. That should be sufficient until we reach the catacombs. Follow my lead and I will take you there."

"Do you know the way through this temple?" Ardeth asked, taking his knife and hiding it within the sleeve of his robe.

Necromancer nodded with grave eyes and he wondered idly what was haunting his former-friend. "This was where Imhotep cursed me," he replied in low tones, his expression hardening again. His papery hand darted out towards Ardeth, ripping his hood up, before he stalked off towards the temple.

Ardeth rolled his eyes and exhaled deeply, straightening the hood and running to catch up. The temple was obsidian like the palace: grand and sleek, but scaled down. Surprisingly there were no guards and all was silent, save for the whispering of the breeze. As they ascended the stairs Ardeth couldn't help but feel anxious. It was as if something were warning him against this, but whether or not that was true made little difference. He could not turn back now.

The great silver doors above proclaimed the blessings of Osiris upon the servants of Pharaoh with finely chiseled hieroglyphs. Necromancer motioned to the handle with a sweeping hand and Ardeth lowered his head, obeying the silent command. The door was not locked and creaked metallically when opened. Sajul pushed his arm into his hand, expecting to be led.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania, Reyhanen and Kaysaan (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: I almost didn't include Ardeth in this chapter, was going to make the next chapter all Ardeth, but I chickened out, so Jonny's second part'll have to feature next chapter. ;-) It still has a fairly good chunk of our Med-Jai hottie, though. :-D

**To Reviewers**:

**Marcher** – Yikes! Sorry to hear you had trouble! Lol. Silly world. Nothing's reliable, eh? I'm glad you enjoyed the Rick scene, as a Rick fan I'm honored you liked it. :-D Hehehe…yeah, gotta give Neccy some irritation too, for all the spreads around. Thanks!

**Mommints** – Thank you much! I try to give Neccy good depth and I'm glad it stands out. :-) And yes, I aim to make people both love and hate the characters…well, the baddies. Wouldn't due to have anyone hating Ardeth, if that were possible. ;-) Thanks a bunch!

**Marxie** – Thankie…yes, I shall reveal all in time…muahahaha. Your questions would have me revealing it all in short order, so I can't answer! :-D Thankya for your compliments on Neccy and how I'm dealing with him. Like I said, I wanna be good with the depth on him. :-) And I'm glad people like the dreams as well, those are fun to write. Poor Ardeth might just have to see some scary stuff though. :-O As for Evy, I was thinking more she was manipulating Rick cause he didn't wanna go…but ack! You're right! Doh on me! :-O I guess I tend to think of her personality as it was in TMR. But one thing, you say otherwise they've been spot-on…that means a whole heap to me because I've been thinking sometimes my characterizations might be way off. ;-) Or offish, anyway. Thanks for your compliments and suggestions. :-)

**Lula** – Well, as for Neccy's hate…I mean think if you did all the same things that so and so down the block did and everyone thought he was a saint and didn't pay you a lick of thanks for what you did. He's just more resentful towards Ardeth's existence I think, than say, thinking Ardeth did anything. If anything he's angry at Ardeth for being so darn perfect. ;-D And anyway, Sajul is kinda selfish anyway, which I'll get into a bit next chapter. But I'm glad he makes you think two ways…cause god knows humans aren't always rational. ;-D Thanks muchly! And thanks for compliments on Rey, I'm glad she is well received as well. She's quite the instigator. ;-D She'll be around for a while…so I hope she isn't irritating anyone! :-O Lol. Thanks muchly!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thankie, thankie, my friend! I'm glad you liked Rey…I'm always fearful of introducing self-made characters and it makes me less so when people mention a like towards them. :-) You rock!

**Deana** – Thanks, my bud! I'm glad you liked and I'll get into more of Arya and Sajul's past soon, and the pain of why Sajul's so darn angry with our hottie. :-D Thanks a bunch! 


	25. The Mind Killer

**Speak Softly**  
The Mind Killer

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The little girl was asleep now, thankfully, having missed her time due to fears and tears. Jonathan ran a tired hand through his hair and looked once more at the secret entrance. Hours had passed, bringing the softness of a dawn without a sign of either Layla or Kaysaan, creating in Jonathan a nervous energy usually saved for when he broke something at the palace or some such. Every moment tempted him sweetly with thoughts of entering the streets himself to try and find his missing friends. He hadn't been out there since his little night-walk to Aladdin's, though. Just how many of Jorin's men patrolled the streets regularly? He sure didn't have night on his side, however.

At a time like this he could use a hearty drink to settle himself down. His little stash had gone dry a little under an hour ago. What _was_ going on out there? It was too late, far beyond an understandable time span. Yet she had been fairly angry and many times had Kay dodged the guards before. Maybe she was trying to make him pay for his secrets. Maybe she was having a trick. Maybe she and Kay were in trouble. Jonathan looked at the dimness streaming through the window and cursed.

His adrenaline rushed with curiousity and fear and annoyance. Jonathan's eyes darted to the hole in the wall as someone clambered through quite loudly. In about two blinks of an eye the young boy was in, out of breath and stomping to where Jonathan was sitting on the floor with sleeping Sania. The elder put his fingers to his lips with stern eyes. "Sorry," Kaysaan wheezed, rubbing his chest and looking very scared. Something was wrong.

Immediately Jonathan stood up and took the boy by the shoulder, leading him into the kitchen area so as not to disturb anyone. Kaysaan took a chair and looked up gravely. "What is it? What's wrong?" Carnahan asked quickly, before the kid could manage a word.

Kaysaan shook his head, his breath coming back to him. "She's been grabbed, old man!" He looked up with wide, startled eyes. "Some of Jorin's men got her from an alley. I found a stick and went after them, but there were too many. It was all I could do to escape."

"Good lord!" Jonathan gasped, rubbing his forehead in thought, pacing the run down kitchen floor. "How long ago? Where did they take her? Did they do anything to her?"

Kay again shook his head. "They took her to Jorin's house on the hill outside of town. It was about midnight I'd say. I had to hide for a little bit, you see. Couldn't lead the bastards back here. Then I fell asleep."

Nodding hastily, Carnahan finally brought himself to the sink to get some water. Now his frayed nerves were pulsating with pained need to do something. The water spilled over the edge of the cup as he shoved it in front of the kid. "We've gotta do something. We can't leave her there."

Taking a long drink, Kay watched him, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve when he was done. "No. We aren't supposed to try and save people. That's what Esam says. It's too dangerous!"

_"What?"_ Jonathan retorted angrily with a firm shake of his head. "We _can't_ just leave her there! The men won't lift a finger?" Kaysaan shook his head sadly, gorging himself on another long drink.

His mind raced for answers. He had been planning on asking Layla for help in retrieving Rick until he had learned otherwise, but if these people wouldn't even save their own he was truly alone. And poor little Sania. She was going to suffer when she heard this. No…he wouldn't let her hear…he couldn't. That little girl needed her mother just as much as Layla needed her. He would go and save her. Simple as that.

Jonathan paced a little more, trying to come up with something in himself, some sort of plan. He cursed the life that had led him to his free spirit and for never putting much thought to things that required serious planning. Kaysaan watched him keenly for an answer that he just wasn't sure he had.

"Is there anyone that can help?" he asked and was answered much what he expected. People had enough problems without having to bail others out all the time, but there _had_ to be someone out there willing to help. He had to do something, beg or cheat or steal. Surely it wasn't that impossible to penetrate Jorin's defenses. "I've got to talk to Esam. He and the other men are in the basement just now playing cards. Maybe he's feeling generous."

Kaysaan shrugged as if to say, 'go ahead, but…' and it was that 'but' that nagged at Jonathan. He shared a long gaze with the boy and Kay sighed. "We aren't allowed to talk about it, but that's where Naseera is. That's Sania's sister. That's why Layla won't speak to the men hardly and probably why she won't let 'em touch her either. And that there's probably why she's such a b--"

Jonathan narrowed his brows, warning, "You watch your mouth, lad. I've heard some of the stuff that comes out of there and I won't have you saying it about her. She does her fair share around here and more."

The boy shrugged and flicked his empty cup around the table. "Esam said it anyway. He's a big, er…jerk sometimes." Kay grinned up at his elder. "Told me to kiss his ass once and I gave him the finger and said to him, I said, 'I wouldn't know where to start 'cause that's all you are, you big…' Well, it wasn't very nice anyway. Boy, oh boy did I get a good scolding about talking about people's parts from Layla. Say, what are we gonna do about her, anyway?"

"You, my boy, are gonna watch over Sania," Carnahan replied with a furrowed brow. The boy made a few terse replies, but he ignored them. There was no help for it. He was just going to have to sneak into Jorin's place and smuggle Layla and her daughter—hopefully—out. 

One thing was certain, though, as he puzzled through just what he was going to do so as not to get himself killed. He was going to need some scotch. He looked at the boy expectantly with his hand held out and Kay feigned ignorance. "You'd better have something on you, be it my drink, my money or possibly some of both." He waited while the boy groaned and fished through his pant pockets.

Kay grinned and produced a little bottle with an already loosened cap. Strangely, about a fourth of the liquor was missing.

~~~~~~~

The antechamber of the Temple of Osiris was empty, gray and decorated with statues depicting Osiris and candles on stands.

Beyond the hall lay a large chamber where chanting filled the ears of the two companions. Stealing glances, Ardeth saw men and women clad as he was, with their knees upon mats before shrines of the ancient gods, offering prayers to each. All ignored the newcomers as if this were a regular event, though if roused, Bay did not doubt they would be apt enough to defend.

Two halls lay on either side and one straight ahead. They went left with the creature's direction and there at the entrance they were finally stopped by a man only definable as such by his shape. All the priests had their hoods drawn. His voice was soft and musical, whispery almost as he greeted, "Welcome to the Temple. I am Adeben. Is there anything I may do for you?"

"I bring this plague victim for care," Ardeth replied in a low tone to match the quiet of this place and Sajul rasped for effect.

The young priest said nothing, merely nodded and stepped back with a gesture of waving his hand over Ardeth's brow. A gesture all too familiar, yet alien to him. The Med-Jai stopped, assailed by memories…visions of shadows and love, Imhotep and Ancksunamun sharing this symbol, and he wondered why this young man would echo that. Necromancer's cough brought him back into the here and now, however, and without knowing why, Ardeth knew he must return the gesture. He did and they proceeded.

"Search what you know of him," Necromancer suggested when they were out of earshot. "You will learn what that symbol means."

Ardeth did search, startled by the remembrance of want and pain. Again he knew that to understand his enemy was folly, but there was nothing he could do to stop it now that the search had begun. It conveyed the blessings of Osiris. Ardeth exhaled and retorted, "You may have told me that knowledge would be needed. What if I had not remembered to return it?"

Necromancer hissed to himself as he ripped his arm away. "Don't be petty, Ardeth. Hhrr. Come this way."

The Med-Jai followed, eager to have this done. These chill surroundings did not fall well on his heavy heart. This was a place even Imhotep equated with the lonesome solitude of dedicating one's life to death. Before Imhotep had risen to the title of High Priest he had dwelt in a place much like this one, intent on studies and encouraged to harden his heart, for to mourn the dead for whom he cared would wear him down to despair. It occurred then to Ardeth why Imhotep may be the way he was, why the curse worked so easily through him. He was desensitized to death and suffering, for that was the whole of his life, a trait forced and nurtured by his caretakers. This made him the perfect vessel for the curse.

"Forced or not," the necromancer hissed, feeling the momentary sorrow Ardeth himself barely recognized in his thoughts, "it is there, has festered and long since killed the man Imhotep may have been. He chose how far to forget the human heart. He is responsible. I would see you fail, but not for so despicable a reason as _pity_."

They came to a turn in the hall and the creature stopped. "Beyond is the door, guarded by two priests. Be swift, for they may use magic. I cannot use my powers to take a human life and I have no weapon, so you will endure this alone. Give them no leave to speak, Ardeth. Draw your knife and cut them down quickly." There was a momentary flicker, a minor thought that did not even take shape into words, an idea born that these priests may not be guilty of any crime other than heeding the lure of a seduction. An idea that may have caused Ardeth to hesitate in fighting. Something was affecting him, whispering to his senses and he closed his eyes, trying to see what could not be perceived as anything other than a weak suspicion in the back of his mind. Necromancer scowled darkly. "By all means, Ardeth, do _not_ fight your foes. Then listen closely as Imhotep takes her beneath him. Feel his lust satiated, knowing that he has won, that he has raped her again, and that the reason is because of your weak inability to fight!"

It was the exact right thing to say. Ardeth knew it and accepted it, and his hesitance diminished. For her he would give up his own soul, do any evil to see her safe, even become Imhotep. He closed his eyes to hide Necromancer's dark grin, forcing himself to forget the curse and the things that stalled him. These people would likely kill him on sight if they knew who he was. They were the enemy, not innocents.

Opening his eyes, Ardeth steeled himself and gripped the dagger within his robe, curling his now bloody fingers around the finely crafted hilt. Morals forgotten for now, he wasted no time in rounding the corner without the necromancer. If this were a trap he would have to meet it head on. Time grew silent around him as he heeded the call of destiny.

Just as his former-friend had said there were two guards by a non-descript wooden door. They startled as the Med-Jai headed for them on silent feet, now lifting his chin to show his face. One young man backed away slightly, for his intent was not to be mistaken. Ardeth drew his weapon. The boy-priest's companion thought quickly on his feet, drawing a short sword from his belt. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the hall when Ardeth's blade hit that of the older priest's.

Quickly the other man drew his own weapon and struck out, easily deflected and kicked into the wall. The priest fell to the floor as the elder continued his own attack. "Who are you?" the elder questioned darkly, glaring Ardeth down in anger. "Who are you that dares to disturb the rest of the dead?"

"Imhotep's Fear," Ardeth replied, taking the name for himself, ready to live his predestined identity. The priest laughed at this and continued fighting as the youth once again came to his feet to help. Arms wrapped around Ardeth's chest and he stumbled back at the pull, but maintained balance enough to fight. The elder priest followed with malicious intent as the younger dragged the Med-Jai back. The short sword climbed in height upon the air and bore down on Ardeth.

He waited and watched, swallowing his fears and acting on instinct alone. With a grim smile the elder plunged the sword forward and Ardeth threw himself to the side with the intent that the younger take the blow, but such was not the case. The young priest escaped and stumbled as his enemy wrenched himself away, then fell into his elder with a rough kick to the hip. "Draw your sword!" the seasoned man ordered, shoving the boy away. His scowl remained on Ardeth. "So, you take the name of Imhotep's Fear? That is a name that will see you in your grave! Do you think you are the only foolish man that has come here claiming to be Imhotep's Fear?"

Sword and dagger clashed again and both men glared into each other's eyes, straining to overpower the other by force. "No," Ardeth replied, conceding to logic that he was likely not the first man to bear that name. He shoved the priest away from him and dodged the younger as he thrust his weapon. "But I am the only man that will fulfill it." Perhaps a little dramatic on his part, but right now he felt he had earned it. Again the youth came forward with fire in his gray eyes. Four blows were delivered and all four Ardeth deflected with ease.

"You must kill them, Ardeth," Necromancer said from his place guarding against either priest taking off down the hall to warn others. "Kill them both!"

Of course that was exactly what he was trying to do, naturally, while his friend remained passive and without an aiding hand. The elder came up behind Ardeth and caught him in a choking hold as the younger kicked Ardeth's hip in recompense for his own pain. "Imhotep's Fear," he sneered, drawing his blade up as his elder had. The other priest knew Ardeth's trick and held him more tightly.

"Is there nothing you can do?" Ardeth hissed, struggling as the short sword came against his chest.

His former-friend chuckled from the shadows. "Really, Ardeth. How do you expect to face Imhotep if you cannot even face down his priests?"

Rolling his eyes, Bay used the irritation and desperation mounting in him and thrust the priest's hold away from his neck and dropped before the younger took the initiative to stab him. Quickly moving, he darted his hand towards the short sword and forced the youth's momentum into the elder priest. It struck a target, buried in the other's side and he cried out loudly. A warning to all others in the temple. Ardeth groaned and fell to the floor as the youth pounced on him. The elder was still moving, he saw from beneath his foe, pulling himself backwards towards his fallen weapon.

It was then Necromancer decided to at last offer help, shaking his head and padding quite calmly towards the priest. His foot stepped onto the priest's wrist with an audible crunch, causing the man to jerk and yell out in agony. "Fools," he muttered, taking the sword up for himself and wandering towards the struggle nearby.

Ardeth flipped his enemy over onto his back and fought to keep the youth's fists at bay, unable to look up at the movement his eyes caught but could not behold fully. It made his skin crawl to know Necromancer approached with a deadly weapon, but his friend took no sudden action against him. The hilt of the sword met his view and he took it, ready to use it against the young man beneath him. But the same sweep of emotion that had come over him earlier struck again. What if this man were an innocent? "Kill him!" Necromancer growled, his hands hovering between taking the action for himself and not. "They are coming! Kill him!"

It was wrong. This kid of not more than seventeen glared back on him with unreasonable hate, but somehow Ardeth felt this was wrong. "No," he said firmly, standing and pulling the boy with him. "I will not shed unnecessary blood." Keeping the blade, Bay shoved the gray-eyed teen into the hall and the young priest needed no hint. With a parting glare he turned away and fled down the hall to gather the others.

Necromancer jerked the door they had sought open with a dirty look and ripped a torch from the wall. "Very well, St. Ardeth. Shall we?"

Wiping an arm across his sweaty brow, he followed wordlessly into the beginnings of the catacombs and shut the door behind him. The atmosphere behind him felt distinctly different, sad almost as he turned and looked around. Even here at the very beginnings were caskets lain within niches on either side of the hall and the air felt cold in here. His inhale filled his ears as Necromancer watched him. "This place," he whispered, but did not continue. No words were needed to describe it, so plain was the tense emotion filling this place. Sajul would know already what he felt.

His companion grunted and set his torch down upon a nearby altar, then walked through the dimness to one of the niches. His fingers coiled around one end of the casket within and his eyes glittered sadly. "We will have to block them," he advised, nodded his friend to join him.

Ardeth nodded and pulled himself away from the door, knowing this to be true. How they ever hoped to escape this place, he didn't know, but that bridge would be crossed when they came to it. Somehow it would work out. It had to. The casket they lifted was a great burden, made of some heavy wood and would likely keep the door closed for a good amount of time. Setting it down parallel with the door, Bay hovered on his knees for a moment and looked around. Everything in here was gray, from the concrete floors to the stone walls. Everything, but white candles on metallic stands and the white coffins that lined the walls like a procession of death. It was soft upon his eyes and the sorrow inside him increased.

When he wandered his vision again to Sajul he saw no mocking or a threat, but an odd expression filled with regret and that same unspoken pain from earlier. "Lift, Ardeth. They will break the door," he said low and Bay complied without comment.

They placed the coffin upright against the door and another at the base to increase stability, and then both men turned towards their destined path. Necromancer was first, heading into the dark with his reclaimed torch, and Ardeth followed. The chill grew only colder as they walked and the quiet enveloping, as if it would swallow them whole. As if one were to try and speak, they would not be able to make a sound.

Not that he wanted to speak, anyway. The time was drawing near and soon his friend would be but a memory, for Ardeth never wanted to look upon Necromancer again. As if he were one of the bodies out in the Field of the Med-Jai, sure enough Sajul was dead also. He was a dark thing, evil and twisted. Yet there was this small place inside Ardeth that refused to believe Sajul was truly and completely gone. He had trouble letting go no matter how much truth stared him in the face.

"You have so much trouble believing," Necromancer commented from his place ahead. He stopped as the path branched into several different directions, then motioned the Med-Jai into the darkness bleeding from the left. "This place is where the dead priests of Osiris are stored, their bodies and their spirits trapped, bound in slavery to the Master of the Dead. Anyone who joins this backward order does so at their soul's peril, but will not learn that fact until the time of caring has passed. These poor spirits are conduits from which Imhotep and his favored priests draw power and use it for their magery. The dead of this order of death are used as fuel, pledging their services to the dread priest forever. Priests of Imhotep would better name them, for in truth it was he they gave their lives and souls for, not Osiris."

A sad tale that Necromancer spoke no more of as they continued on in the dark. Ardeth could feel the truth of it and could feel Imhotep's interest perked across their link. His emotions were deep and dark, regretful almost, but firm in the choice of what he needed to maintain his hold on the world. The blood of others was an acceptable price to pay to the priest. In this way kingdoms were made and in his blindness he saw their slavery as a compassion. Ardeth let Imhotep know how morally wrong he thought that was through their bond and the priest turned away the blame. The curse gained another stronghold upon the king so far away.

"I will not let them suffer much longer," finally, after a long span had passed, Necromancer said. He led Ardeth down another turn and stopped, fixing eyes on his former-brother. "You have seen me past the guards, Ardeth, and now my need of you is complete."

Necromancer smiled and moved before Ardeth could react. Suddenly the torch was snuffed out and everything went hopelessly black. 

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania, Reyhanen and Kaysaan (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Fear is the mind-killer. Mmmm. So is Leto Atreides II, for to look upon him is to look upon hotness. That DVD is so mine when it comes out. :D I know, I know. Less inane babble, more story. :D 

**To Reviewers**:

**Self Plug:** I have a new Mummy website. Isn't that special? :D geocities.com/adesertpower

**Marcher** – Aaaw, thank you very much, my friend! :D I certainly never wanted to see Imhotep defeated badly. *sniff* And yeah…I love Jonathan, so I'm pleased to write him and highly pleased when I get to read stories like yours and Marxie's that deal with him. He's really an awesome character. :D Thanks!!

**Lula** – Thankie, my friend! I'm glad you got to feeling better with your tummy! Thanks for the compliments…I rather like Kaysaan myself. I enjoy writing him! Prolly cause he's kinda like a mix of Jonathan and Rick. :D If you pound on Immy, leave certain parts of him in working order, if you know what I mean. ;-D I still got a soft spot for the poor jerk. As for Neccy, I've been trying to visualize his face as you were suggesting I do and I did get something…not sure if I think it's him, but the same image keeps coming back to mind. *scratches head* :D Thanks!

**Mommints** – Thanks! Hehehe. Yes, I like to make people feel bad for Imhotep…I've got a good chapter for that coming up in about…hmm 7-10. Close to the end! Muahaha. ;-) As for the big Sajul/Ardeth contest…hmm…I wonder who will win too. ;-) Just never know!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Aaw, that's very nice of you to say! You're very kind. :-) Thanks for compliments on liking Jonny better...He's a doll anyway, so I'm glad I'm writing him well! :-D

**Deana** – Hehehe…yes, I'll be chickening out until the end. And all through the next installment. I just can't leave Ardeth out. He's so purty, after all. ;-) Yes, Neccy is quite the abusive company to be keeping. Him needs a pankin. As for what ultimately happens…he wins and peoples the world with dead people! Muahahaha! Well, we'll have to see about that. :-D

And a big thanks to everyone who allowed me to archive their stories! If you still want to send me a copy, please, by all means I'm open. I just wanted to get a prototype of sorts up and running. **Thanks muchly**!!! :D You all rock!


	26. Beneath The Darkness

**Speak Softly**  
Beneath The Dark

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The light was gone now and with it came fear of what Necromancer intended to do, and something else. It started slowly and timidly, whatever it was—an echo of emotion crawling towards them now that the uncertainty had begun. Ardeth spun in the blackness that surrounded, trying to catch something of a sensation of what hovered on the edge of his perception. 

"Sajul!" he snapped and was answered by a dark sound, his friend laughing nearby. He was not a superstitious man—the world was as God made it—but there was something about this place that gave him uneasy, sad feelings that were not his own. The impending betrayal stung no less even in knowing, but something else was weighing him down. Something sentient. Creatures? No, nothing so harsh sounding as that, he sensed. They weren't driven by the same evil that drove Imhotep and Necromancer. He could feel their stolen brightness seeping into every sensation. They grieved and pawed and begged with a hunger that matched the dead of Imhotep's dungeon, but these were not evil things, twisted by the priest's madness.

They took a wailing voice, slow and indiscernible at first, bitter with despair and his friend paced in the black. "They want you."

"No," he whispered, unwilling to allow this to descend into defeat. This was a trick. He backed into a cool wall and tried to forge some sort of vision out of nothing. "What is this?"

Dust was kicked into his direction, causing him to cough as it clouded his face. "The Priests of Imhotep, Ardeth. Did I not tell you of them but a moment ago?"

He tried to shut it out, but it became louder in his mind. Even as Ardeth fought them, they tempted him, speaking an offer of long-forgotten rest. He felt hands touching him softly, voices whispering some sort of calming caress as they warned him that he was in danger, that Imhotep would kill him and all would fall to darkness. It never felt so real, so burningly hopeless until now. But these were not his emotions. "Sleep with us," he thought he heard someone hiss in the shadows.

"I can't," he replied gently, stepping from the wall and feeling the two altars on either side, naming two directions he could go if Necromancer would allow it. Chancing it, Ardeth slipped towards the left and the air grew panicked. A hand gripped his shoulder and jerked him back.

Necromancer pulled him close into a brotherly embrace he was not strong enough to pull out of, a mockery of the seemingly rock solid friendship they had once shared, holding him tightly as if they had never been parted and changed, breathing so deathly quiet and certain, "This time you will not escape. The dead have a power all their own when brought back to this hell of earth." Sajul exhaled sharply and reached up amidst the Med-Jai's struggles, brushing fingers over Ardeth's eyes. "You feel tired."

With a swallow, Ardeth shook his head and pulled away, blind to whatever may find him. "I will fight." He could feel the priests' cries in his veins at that affirmation. They did want him, desperately so. He would be guarded by his own host of human angels, kept safe and peaceful until death took him. They wanted him, wanted his life, to watch him as he would watch Evelyn and savor her breath. Images of the Field of the Med-Jai were forced into his thoughts with the promise that if he left this place he would end up there.

"No, you will not fight. And now it comes to it," the dark version of Sajul mused. "My intention has always been to kill you, Ardeth. From the very beginning, for the priest. This is what gave you your freedom. Not Evelyn's sacrifice, but my promise. That is why you live, but to die here."

His friend and brother meant to kill him here in the catacombs beneath Imhotep's temple. He did not have to question why Necromancer had turned on him. Ardeth had suspected this would come, if not by a promise made to Imhotep, then by Necromancer's own delight. That soft hissing before him prepared for one purpose—his death.

"Sajul," he said in one last attempt, knowing it would fail. If he could grab the thing's wrists and twist him around, perhaps he could escape in the other direction. Anything to free himself of this place. The Book of Amun Ra had removed Imhotep's power before and while the staff's ability to sever the priest's bindings to this earth would prevent him from returning again, he could live with having to guard his tomb against resurrection instead. The important thing was to survive.

The beings in this place seemed to tense in wait for whatever would take place and he could sense if a contest took place they would want for his success. But that gave him no comfort. They wanted him to live that he could die here. They desired him. 

He felt a rush of adrenaline as he readied himself. But the creature did not attack.

To his preparations Necromancer laughed terribly and a chill spread through him. Could anything human convey such a foul, demonic intent? "No, my friend. I cannot kill you. I would if it was possible, but as I have said, it is not. Not in such a state as you are in now. And so I shall do the next best thing. I give you to the spirits here."

More footsteps sounded and the Med-Jai backed away, but Necromancer's focus was now on speaking with the denizens of this place. "His grace is beautiful, is it not? That which is repugnant to my eyes fills you with hope, my children?"

Affirmative, sickening sweetness seemed to fill the atmosphere as cold hands met his flesh, pawing at his clothing, touching him personally. He would have thrown them off had there been something there to grasp. Necromancer chortled at his discomfort and fear. "We want him," the voice that seemed many whispered into the dark. "We want him to sleep here with us."

"And so he shall," the dead betrayer agreed, moving somewhere to his left as if to inspect the gift he gave. "He is life. He is to be despised."

The sadness in this terrible place increased and soft wailing, barely heard above a whisper, sounded in the depths. "No," the voices echoed intently, yet with a hint of envy. Ardeth suddenly felt dizzy and dropped to his knees under the soft urge of needful hands on his shoulders. They wanted him to stay and rest here, and though he kept fighting, knowing the urgency to do so, it felt hopeless. They were forcing fear on him, forcing their will so easily it made him tremble inside. A hand found his chin and raised it up as if someone were looking into his face. "He is life. He is to be enjoyed."

"No," Ardeth breathed, finding it hard to even stay on his knees. Pulling out of the invisible hold, he looked from side to side as if it would offer him the location of his former-friend. "Take your spell off of me!"

"It will wear off," Necromancer rasped softly and the beings waited in impatient curiousity. "Though by then you shall cease to care, so saddened and fearful you will be. I would have seen you dead, but I think this will prove better. These things are no less hungry than I, but you will live under their care. They will keep you here, savoring you and your fear until your last breath. I will have the Staff of Osiris and you will fail." The footsteps retreated and the spirits seemed to swell with a quiet, mournful joy. He felt his hair being touched as if he were some sort of pet.

"Don't do this, Sajul," he said, losing himself to the sleepy haze of Necromancer's spell and almost welcoming the peace they wanted to give in exchange for his failure. He had survived death to fight and yet his strength proved no worth in this. "She needs me. This world needs me."

Sajul snorted in contempt. "This world needs you? How arrogant you sound. You are nothing in the eyes of this world. Look at you, reduced to this. You wish me to help you, Ardeth? Ah, but you have accused me of requiring payment for my help. What can you offer?" He inhaled thoughtfully. "Lust no longer moves me or I may have demanded the use of your Evelyn. I wonder. For the world would you have given me permission to do that? To hurt her?"

"No, I would not have, you filthy creature!" Bay replied harshly, but the weakness washed quickly over his spirit again. He needed to get up, but the hands were too numerous and too heavy.

The necromancer laughed lightly at that and paced a little. "No, I thought not. Even you have your limits of heroism. So you would not let me hurt those you love, even for the sake of saving the world. Hrrr. But you _would_ let me hurt you. I know you all too well. Do you loathe what I am, Ardeth? Do you find me repulsive and beneath you?" Ardeth kept back a biting reply and Necromancer took a step towards him. "Of course you do. I am far beneath you and a break in your pride would be the price I would demand."

Bay exhaled as the sorrow around him increased. They waited for his reply, greedily wanting for him to fail this little test. But he would not. "What would you have me do?" he asked, fearing any number of things this evil being would ask. But whatever would come, no matter how much it hurt, he would do it for her. For his purpose.

"Nothing so terrible as what you imagine," Necromancer rasped suggestively. His voice was now hungry and intrigued. "I only wish for you to lower yourself and beg. Beg me to help you, Ardeth. I am your only hope out of this place. Make it convincing."

It was a small price to pay, but the warrior found it difficult to begin. Yet he could _not_ allow himself to remain a prisoner here. Fearing this failure and sorrowing over this betrayal, Ardeth reached a hand towards Sajul, knowing he would not escape without help. "Please," he whispered, hard-pressed, but desperate. The pawing of him stopped instantly. "Please do not leave me here. I need you to help me. Remove the spell."

Necromancer laughed kicked his hand, sending Ardeth off balance and to the floor. His voice was amused, but intent. This business was done and he had gotten more than he had planned for. "I give him to you."

The warrior gave over to his heaviness with that statement. He could almost say let them keep him, but for the knowledge of what that would mean. Necromancer laughed as he stalked away into the dark. Even now he could feel the spirits trying to comfort him, offering their peace and urging him to give up his foolish mission. "Leave me!" he hissed, but these things would not let him go. They enflamed his own fear to draw his strength from him.

Someone was pushing him down. He felt their hands on his back, easing him to the floor and guiding him to pillow his head on his arms. They soothed him, promising it would not be so bad. "I will not give up," he murmured, closing his dark eyes against the will of these many beings that took delight in the grace pouring off him. He could envision himself getting back up, but his limbs refused to cooperate.

The voices whispered and wept, each focused on him and their hurt permeating the atmosphere. They once had nothing but each other and their sadness, but that was now changed. They now had him and his fear.

"There is hope, Chosen."

~~~~~~~

The fire was burning low and a small draft could be felt from around the earthy corner, shifting little grains of sand from the top of a large rock nearby. They couldn't remain here for long. In fact they should be on the move right now, but the poor girl needed a rest. Rick lounged against the hard surface of the cave wall, smoking a cigarette and watching this mysterious woman sleep. The fire danced on her pretty face pleasantly.

She was a remarkably able fighter for one so delicate seeming. Those guards standing watch over Aundre's cellar were every bit as large as Reyhanen had claimed they would be, but not unstoppable. Who could stand against Rick O'Connell, anyway? He grunted, flicking the ashes from his little vice. The ex-Legionnaire looked down at the prize so precariously sitting on the edge of his thigh. Just a little tip to the right and it would fall. The Star-Key had been easy enough to get, but by the time they hit the first floor disaster had struck from all sides.

Rick rubbed the aching gash on his arm and let his blue eyes hit the fire. They had just barely gotten away, but with a little luck and the grace of god had managed to escape into the night to find rest in the high rock formations off the road. They had entered the maze of caves and due to practicality and wanting to remain alive, had traversed the inside for quite some time, finally coming to another opening quite nearly on the other side. But they were still in pretty heavy danger. The caves within this rocky area were thick and confusing, but that wouldn't save them if Hughes sifted through every one. That search could be taking place right now, even. He was going to have to wake Reyhanen and get her moving.

But she would be hard pressed to walk, rested or not. Rick slid his eyes over the exposed shin, wincing at the bloody rag wrapped around it. Having your skin hacked into was never pretty or fun. It gave him an unwelcome flashback of Ardeth's lifeless form.

He knew they should go. Somehow this felt insane, dragging her around. She had insisted on leaving with him, but he had killed every guard that had seen them together. A knife to the throat and a threat to kill her would have convinced anyone in that house that she had nothing to do with the robbery. She was quite possibly safer there, anyway. What was it Beni had said? Something about standing beside the devil so you weren't in his path?

He was front and center in Imhotep's path. By now he had to have realized his failure in killing Rick and Jonathan. The king wasn't the sort of man to let loose ends wander around Egypt freely, especially after he had come so close to ending the irritation they caused. The danger was now higher than ever and Imhotep's search more ruthless if Rick knew anything about him. Any man in Egypt with blue eyes was a sitting duck.

Holding the cigarette between his lips, Rick reached into the pack Jorin had gifted him with and pulled out the scimitar he had picked up from Ardeth, thinking perhaps this girl could carry it. In the basement she had gotten a hold of one of her 'master's' little wall decorations—an old scimitar of pretty make, and had wielded it with not just a little know-how. It made him wonder where she had come from. Egypt was full of strange bedfellows now. Even the Med-Jai were no secret. With her attitude she may well have come from some rich merchant who had skill with a blade and passed it on to his only child. Perhaps he would ask her later.

Reyhanen stirred of her own accord and he was grateful he hadn't been forced to disturb her. It took her some effort to sit up comfortably and avoid hurting her injured leg. "How long have I slept?" she asked in a thick, sleepy voice. Her tanned fingers brushed through her long, black hair and he smiled.

"Few hours. I didn't want to wake you 'cause I, well to be honest, I thought you might kick me or something." Rick winked and flicked his ashes. "Cigarette?"

Rubbing her arms, the woman shook her head and gazed down at the fire. "I would not have kicked you, O'Connell," she murmured softly, a little grin playing across her lips. The pain of her leg was evident through her expression, however. No, she wouldn't have kicked him. Rick got up on his hands and knees and crawled over to her, inciting a startled little look he found pleasant.

He untied the rags around her shin and examined the large gash, wincing at the blood obscuring the wound's depth. This was bad. He tried to hide that fact when his crystal eyes raced to hers at her little whimper, but her eyes saw the confirmation. "We've got to get you out of here. Did you have any particular place to take this key?"

Reyhanen shook her head and looked down at her leg. "Those I used to work with are gone. My intent was to keep the Key on me until Allah gave me a path. Did you have a plan?"

Rick shook his head, but shrugged after. "Well, I got sent after the Key by a criminal, if you want the truth. If he'd hired me alone, I'd say screw him and I'd take you to a safe place. But he's got my friend Jonathan and I can't leave him behind. Jorin didn't seem all that bad. I don't think he would mind terribly if I brought you with me when I delivered the Key, but the thing is we're gonna need this Key sooner or later. I managed to get past the lock on the Book of the Dead, but that took a _hell_ of a lot of work."

It wasn't an easy situation by any means and maybe the right thing for the world would be to leave Jonathan behind for the sake of what this Key would be used for, but he just couldn't hack it. Reyhanen, in relief to the greater good Rick's conscience was pestering him about, did not add to the already whirling fight against leaving his friend behind. "So, we sneak into town and smuggle your friend out or if all else fails, we give Jorin the Key for a while. Family is the most important thing in this sad world. Do you think we could steal it back when the time is right?"

"I don't know. We were pretty lucky to get it this time."

"It was not luck. It was destiny," she replied. She looked down and pressed on the sensitive flesh above her cut, exhaling in frustration at the pain such an act produced. "I should have been more careful," she breathed as she looked into his worried expression. "There will be plenty of time to discuss this as we walk. We should probably leave now."

"Yeah," he agreed softly, knowing this wasn't going to be an easy trip. They had darkness to cover their movements at least. That was encouraging. Rick grabbed the nearby knapsack and Key, tossing their treasure inside and shouldering it. Reyhanen tried to stand on her own, but the partially restrained groans prompted him to help her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled when she reached full height. "Nothing to it."

The maid shared his expression, but it quickly faded with the first step and a gasp. A hand tightened around his shoulder. "Here, let me," he offered, reaching down to gather her up. He hated seeing her in this terrible pain, but this was going to slow them down considerably. Leaving her was out of the question, though, no matter what the danger.

"No," Reyhanen breathed, taking another step so he couldn't get her. The sudden weight on her injury drew a cry from her as she tumbled back to the sand. "Leave me," she told him in a commanding tone, brushing her hair behind her ears and looking up with resolved eyes.

O'Connell tossed his cigarette down and crouched to help her again. "Hey, I'm guessing destiny asked me to take you along for the ride, too. Now you better stop trying to weasel more sympathy out of me, lady. You _know_ I'm not going to leave you and well, we don't have time for me to fuss and gawk." Of course that wasn't the reason she had offered and he knew it, but he hoped a little humor might go a long way in keeping her from sacrificing herself.

Reyhanen gave him a hot glare and shoved away his helping hands, but his winning smile convinced her to ease up after a moment. The fear in her strong eyes abated a touch, but he knew this wasn't going to be easy for her. She needed a bed. Rick guiltily entertained a few mental images with that observation. "Idiot," she replied mock-acidly as he pulled her back up and grinned.

With a nod he eased her towards the cave entrance. Outside he could hear the wind howling and it unsettled him. A storm was the last thing they needed. "When it rains, it pours," he muttered to himself, feeling his pockets with a free hand. Just where did he shove that pack of cigarettes?

It took some doing, but they did finally reach the cave mouth. The sky was dark and thick, offering very little light to the two travelers. This was good. It was the perfect time to head out. Reyhanen tilted her head to the wind, gripping his shoulder to keep the weight off her injury. Her face was intense and pleasant as she listened. "I hear nothing," she said softly, looking across the empty, windswept desert. The search had not come to them yet. There was still time.

Rick heaved a sigh of relief and motioned his head towards the south with Jorin in mind. This was going to be tricky, getting Jonathan out and managing to keep the Star-Key to boot. He could just hear Ahamad, too, raving about sacrifice. And right now he wouldn't even mind hearing it. Not that he would pay it any attention—Jonathan _would_ be rescued—but he missed him. After all the anger and hate, he missed the guy, his sister and the people. He wondered idly if Nashean had sent word yet that they weren't coming back. Of course Imhotep would have boasted to him by now. Rick grit his teeth and absently pet the maid's side as if to impart comfort or draw it or both.

"You carry sadness," she observed gently, hopping with her arm around his neck. Her eyes watched the sandy floor beneath them.

Rick nodded and thought about picking her up to ease her suffering. Oh, how he wished he could have eased Mayadeh's. He tried to keep those thoughts at bay, but sometimes they wouldn't let go and it hit him again just what was gone. "Yeah well, don't we all? I'm just so sick of people dying." He cursed and shied away from that night, again to no avail. The faces would not leave him alone and it was getting worse. "I know it's nothing anyone hasn't heard, but…ah, it's pointless."

His companion remained silent for the moment and Rick felt foolish. He was supposed to be strong, wasn't he? That's what they all expected of him. It's what he expected of himself. He had probably made her fears worsen. Reyhanen exhaled and hopped, looking him over thoughtfully. "It's all right, O'Connell. I know your grief. I share it. The world shares in it. Sometimes I think of my brother and wish he were here to help me. To guide me. But I'm glad he never saw these days. I know it sounds terrible, but for those that have passed I think we should be happy that the pain is over."

It sounded so hopeless, yet she was right by some measure. The pain was over for Ardeth, for Mayadeh and her brooding brother. And the years stretched on before him, a man left alone to stop this tide of terror. Rick sighed and nodded, then looked back across the desert. The air felt moist and that meant rain. That was one thing he was going to have to complain to Imhotep about while he killed him. "Yeah. You're right. It's the selfless thing to think, isn't it? I just miss them."

Reyhanen gave his shoulder a squeeze. "As do I. Did you lose someone recently? You were the friend of Lady Nefertiri, were you not?"

Rick nodded quickly and stopped when she stumbled. "I'm gonna pick you up for a while. How's that sound? Nice free ride on a strong stud like me?" A wink made her bat his shoulder. "I might even let you use reins next time."

"Only if you're able," she replied tartly and he chuckled softly, picking her up. "And can I use a bit to shut you up?"

"We'll discuss tack when the time comes and I'm more than able," he assured her, glad he could pick up the pace a little. The better time they made, the bigger shot they had at actually getting away. "Yeah, I know Lady Nefertiri. Evy to me. No, she's okay…as okay as she can be with that bastard hovering over her, anyway. God, I _really_ hate that man." Rick wiggled his nose as a few sprinkles started to fall. Reyhanen groaned. "I just lost a couple really important people the other day and it's still fresh on my mind. They didn't die very happy deaths, if you get me."

Pillowing her head on Rick's shoulder, the maid sighed tiredly and played with the collar of his shirt. "Would you like to talk about it? Unburden yourself?"

Why did everyone have to talk about it? Why should he have to relive those horrible events, those gut-wrenching moments just to talk about it? Rick shook his head, gazing intently ahead. He had no desire to go into the story. He had thought of it enough for today and was already feeling wearied. "No. You wanna talk about your brother?"

He felt her shake her head against him and the answer was as he had expected. "No."

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: 

**To Reviewers**:

**Wellduh** – Thanks! I'm glad you like him, I wasn't too sure about him. :-O :-D Thanks for the feedback on this story and my Mummy/LOTR.

**Lula** – Thanks my friend! I much appreciate your feedback! Yes, I quite enjoyed writing Kay myself…need more funny moments given all the darkness going on. And yes, I live but to torment Ardeth's character, for he does not exist and is not mine and that really, _really_ ticks me off. ;-) Hell hath no fury like a woman with no Ardeth Bay in her life. So I pay him back with my writings. :-D Thanks for the compliments, Lu!

**Marcher** – You mean Kay? :-D Thankie, my friend! And thanks for your compliment on Neccy, it's not only sometimes difficult or nervous trying to capture another character someone else has made, but also to make a personal character that is in depth, realistic and interesting. So I'm glad he's complicated enough that you can't decide what to think about him…I can't either! ;-)

**Marxbros** – Aaw, thanks for not only reviewing the last chapter, but the one before! Anyway, sorry about the cliffhanger. Originally the Ardeth part before that, the last chapter and this chapter had been combined into one big Ardeth chapter, but it was really big and I thought people might find it daunting, so I tweaked it and split it. I'm happy you liked my Jonathan, if you like him I know I must be on the right track. :-D Thank you for your compliments all around.

**Jessie C** – Thanks my friend and thanks for help with the website! You totally rock! :-D

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks muchly for your review, my friend! Thanks for following my story as you have and giving me the feedback. It means a bunch!  
:-)

**Mommints** – What can I say? I got a thing for blue and gray eyes. :-O Like Elrond! Mmmmm. Hot Elf Lord. ;-) Thank you for the link and review. :-D Sorry about the teeth edge…at least he's left Ardeth alone now, huh? Much needed break.

**Deana** – Yes, want to be left alone in the dark with Neccy, so Ardeth will have something to do, other than look purty and break hearts. :-D Thanks my friend! 


	27. Fading Into Dusk

**Speak Softly**  
Fading Into Dusk

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

This woman was jealous of her and as such, didn't like her one bit. Evelyn, adjusting the silken maroon tresses of her skirt, didn't stand from her chair and pace uncomfortably when the High Priestess of Osiris, caretaker of this palace, approached with a cold expression on her pale face. She merely held her hand out to examine the pretty fabric she was now covered with. Feet with white hose peeked from beneath her long skirt, clad in pretty black shoes. All these fine things made her feel like a queen. They were pretty and Imhotep's seamstress was to be praised for such work. Evelyn was as happy as she could be in such circumstances.

Celestine was a severe woman with light, golden hair that shone brightly against her black velvet robes. There was no depth of compassion in those crystalline eyes and the intentions behind an ill heart tainted her rich voice. The high priestess pulled a chair from the cherry dining table Evy sat at. "So, he takes his whore to be his bride?" she asked plainly, her opinion pouring through her inflections.

Evelyn raised her eyes to meet the other woman's. "I would be careful if I were you, Celestine. He's quite protective of me."

The priestess exhaled and sat back. "Yes, so he is. It should be me he weds, but instead he chooses you." Long fingers rested against her slip of red lips as she looked off in thought. "What to do about this little situation. His heart blinds him…I can't allow that to continue. Any suggestions on how I should end your pitiful little dream of being queen?"

Evy gave the other woman a hard look and considered leaving the room. Should this woman ever attain immortality and couple with Imhotep the world would do well to mourn its inevitable death. Evy had taken to trying to find good things about marrying him and that was one of them. At least he listened to her somewhat and she could keep him from letting the curse totally possess him. But this woman would encourage his cruelty to grow. "I suggest if you have a problem with his decisions that you take it up with him. I'm not his keeper," she retorted, playing with the gold bracelet he had given her from his store of plundered treasures. Queen Elizabeth I had worn this very bracelet.

Crossing her arms, Evelyn ignored the priestess and gazed across the dining room to the priceless works of art hanging on the wall. Imhotep had taken to the idea of having such antique treasures adorn his home and appreciated the works of such artists as Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci. Now statues and paintings of all kinds were scattered through this virtual museum of a palace, safe and sound by the protection of Celestine's magic and the jackals that patrolled. Her eyes fell upon da Vinci's painting of the Last Supper and she thought about how out of place it seemed in the home of a demon. But was Imhotep truly a demon? Less and less she was sure of that.

Celestine's hand found a few of the braids hanging down her shoulder, brushing the soft surface and fraying the perfection. "I could kill you. Make it look like suicide." One of Evy's braids became twined around this frightening woman's finger. "Wouldn't that just kill him? His little whore, his former student, killing herself because the thought of being with him was so terrible? He is a powerful, confident man, but I think he would still need to prove himself able to win a woman's lusts rather than steal them."

Evy pulled her hair from the other's hand and the priestess laughed, adjusting her sleeves. "Kill me and Imhotep will find out. He knows I won't kill myself. I have reasons to live. Who fawns over him every chance she gets? Who once tried to lure him to her bed, only to be turned down like the trash she is?" Evy spat back with slit eyes. "You may call me every shameful name you can, but at least I have the knowledge that I don't act as you say I am."

The priestess laughed, gazing through unreadable crystal eyes. "You're probably right about that. Which leaves me two options. Cunning or waiting until an opportunity presents itself." Pushing her chair back, Celestine bowed her head and smiled prettily. "Enjoy the power while you can, Princess Nefertiri."

Evelyn scowled at her back as she left the room. She was as mean as a snake and just as willing to strike out, but always only at the right time. A time convenient for her goals, when she wouldn't get blamed for her manipulation of circumstances. If she weren't careful Evy might just wind up on the receiving end of one of the priestess's schemes. Celestine certainly hated her enough now. When they entered the palace she had been at the door, waiting to greet her king and Imhotep had chosen that moment to reintroduce Evy, naming her his bride. Celestine had kept her cool, but the looks spared Evelyn had been murderous.

Sitting up, she made ready to retire to her quarters. Thankfully for the time being she was still allowed to sleep in her own rooms—the first night with Imhotep clinging to her in his sleep—but she held little doubt that after the marriage that would change.

And tomorrow night would be her wedding night. That made her stomach muscles clench. What was he expecting? Whether or not she wanted to live fully as his wife and whether or not he forced her to, someday this issue between them would come up. There was peace between them and to keep him appeased she was going to have to maintain it. But it seemed so wrong, like he was winning that way.

Just as she stood the subject of her thoughts entered the room and smiled with beautiful eyes. "You are ever lovely," he complimented her, drawing a blush as he took her hand and brushed his fingers against her palm. "Did you dine well, Nefertiri?"

Evy nodded, finding it hard to speak just now. Those dark eyes reminded her of another set that should be looking into hers. She trembled as he watched her and she searched for anything to say to draw him away from seeing her discomfort. "C-Celestine came," Evelyn said, anything else escaping for the moment. "She's not very happy with this."

Imhotep waved his hand apathetically. "Why should that merit my concern? If she crosses me, she will die. She knows this." He reached out to her, trailing his fingers across her half-clothed shoulder. "Tomorrow will be long. Roosevelt arrives and I shall offer the option to witness our marriage. It shall be a strenuous day. You may retire from the reception early if you wish, for I will likely talk business until late hours."

That sent some relief into her system, but not much. "Thank you," Evy replied softly, truly grateful for at least some time to relax away from the eyes and chatter.

He picked up on her nerves and offered a kiss, soft on her lips, enveloping and touched with the want she knew he was concealing. It was becoming all too natural for him to do these things, but she allowed it to keep the peace. His hand brushed against her hip and squeezed gently as he searched her mouth. He tasted of wine and fair mood. "Relax, my princess." Her husband-to-be stepped away and smiled a quiet smile. "I have things I must attend to. And you have my assurance of your rights. Sleep well, for tomorrow will be long as I said."

"Sleep well?" she repeated ironically, scuffing her shoe against the carpet and crossing her arms. She somehow did not doubt in this instance that was easier said that done. Tomorrow was her wedding day, after all. Weren't all brides nervous the night before?

~~~~~~~

Awakening came hard to one coated in such warm feelings as he. His rest had been sweet and watched over, temptingly bittersweet. But all that was gone now. He could sense that as he opened his eyes to the blackness that surrounded, as he sat up. They wanted him awake, perhaps to entertain them with his attempts to leave or to simply watch him live. Now that Necromancer's spell was gone he could actually think straight enough to wonder about these beings. "Who are you?" he called into the dark, answered by only the resonance of his deep voice. His sigh echoed through the chambers.

Ardeth pushed himself off the hard floor, testing how far they would allow him to go. They were still present, he did not doubt, feeling their curiousity. Or maybe that was his imagination tricking him, adding false hope that he could leave this place if he so chose. The bottom of his boots were loud against the slate floors, scraping with his slow, tentative steps towards a direction he chose at random, his hands stretched out to prevent him from hitting a wall. Whatever their want of him last night, they seemed well enough to let him walk without trouble now. Was this because they knew he could not leave or because they did not care?

Suddenly it came upon him and he stilled, listening to what he thought he heard. The sounds of wind, perhaps? Breathing? A whisper. A question. "Why did you spare that boy?"

The question surprised him and he considered his answer carefully. "Because he seemed innocent." The very walls seemed to cry at that statement and Ardeth waited for more, for an explanation to this madness. 

They seemed so sad, so hopeless, bleeding their emotions into him without care. "We are the innocent," several whispers sounded, echoing and shifting position. "We are the ones Imhotep has enslaved. He kept us from passing over. We feel his terrible touch even still. Even on you, Chosen. You will die and be no different than us."

Ardeth leaned against a nearby sarcophagus on the floor and crossed his arms, wondering if these things would torment him now. "Why have you awakened me? Do you mean to keep me here?"

They paused as if considering, a tense moment that caused him unease. Who were they that could so dominate his emotions? Could he fight if these beings decided to keep him? He could sense their reluctance as they replied, "We want you here. You feed us. You quicken us. But you spared one of ours without care that he may be your death. Goodness should be repaid in kind. But you are so beautiful. So true. We want you."

Compared to the innocence in this room he did not feel so beautiful. Ardeth brushed his hair back, exhaling softly, thinking the sound too harsh for these souls to bear. Outside this solemn place he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he was beginning to feel it become too burdensome. He had already been through so much pain and misery in so short a time. So much failure. "We have saddened you too far," they breathed contently, whispering those gentle, intangible fingers across his hair and shoulders. "There may be hope."

"Hope?" Ardeth retorted in a thick voice. Yes, they had gone too far, but how much of the grief was his? The Staff was gone. The Book of Amun Ra hidden. Evelyn suffered still and with the promise of betrayal still waiting to be written between them. Even now Imhotep took delight in her simple pleasure of wearing the gown of a lady instead of the clothes of a slave. The priest took hope in her treatment of him, for presently she was allowing him to be close, to enter into her thoughts as less than a murdering beast. "Imhotep can change the weather, defeat the world and keep spirits from passing on. How can I fight this?"

The emotions clouding these halls drew back from him. He could feel them watching in the dark, judging him perhaps? Or was it he that judged himself? "Will you do what is required of you?" they asked, just as he questioned himself whether or not he could.

Whether or not he could would remain to be seen. They wanted to know if he would risk trying and to that there could be only one answer despite his fears. He would do as he always had. He would harden himself to what lay ahead and perform. "Yes, I will." His heart would not allow him to take any other road, even those leading to life and joy.

"Then there may be hope." That hope reflected through them to him, tempting him from the sorrow of this place. "With your promise to free us, we will let you depart. We may not have if you had killed that boy, so be thankful you have such a true heart. This will be your salvation. But time grows short. Speak what you will to us."

He knew his first question even before he spoke it. "What are you?" he asked them, wanting to know more of these strange beings.

"We were innocent once until Imhotep seduced us with his power," they began in quiet, reminiscent voices. They took on a distinctly bitter edge. "Taken by his beauty and promises we became his servants, spellbound and helpless. He sacrificed us for his betterment and placed us here, binding us to this earth so that he could use our grace to strengthen himself. If you would know anything of us, know that we feed his magic. We can never pass to the afterworld."

Such was the source of their despair. To be bound on this planet without death or life, to wander without purpose and without peace. Imhotep had done this to these spirits, bound them to a fate worse than even his curse. He had stepped beyond revenge. Ardeth closed his eyes and flexed his right arm and fingers. "How can such evil wander this land?" he thought aloud, not expecting a reply, but it stirred a firm answer.

"You have been given a gift, Chosen. To understand him. Trust your heart when it comes to him and do not let your pride stand in the way. He is Master of the Dead—a neutral position. His innocence paid for that and your gift has brought him balance."

"Innocence? He killed a man for that position and yet you call him innocent?"

The sadness deepened and crept back into his veins. "You do not know his life and therefore cannot judge what came before. The murder committed by his hand was a grave sin, but is one sin worse than another against time? Do you know his heart after the king was slain? Do you know the difference between what he was then and what the curse has made him?" There was no rebuke in those statements, only the desire for him to understand just how unworthy any man is to judge. Heavenly wisdom.

Yet Imhotep had done his fair share of evil. Whether or not he had been innocent then was irrelevant. "Will I defeat him?"

"That we cannot tell. Only the Highest has that level of knowledge and can choose when to reveal it and to whom. Understanding will come. Do not forget us. It is urgent you remember."

The conversation was drawing to a close. He could sense them losing the will to allow his departure, and so he pushed himself up from the chilled stone and held out a hand, praying for guidance. When a hand clasped he was grateful for a break in the storm of fighting he had been so immersed in. It was refreshing to have help instead of grief.

The path was long and as he walked he found his saturated feelings were dimming, allowing his mind and heart to rest. They offered him no words of hope, no promises that all would work out in the end, nothing more than simple rest from having to feel it so desperately. It would come back, he knew, or perhaps they were telling him this. There was no denying what he was and would be until the day death found him at last. The mark of Heaven could not be undone. But for the moment all was quiet inside. Beautiful, blessed light assaulted the darkness of this mausoleum when they finally drew close to the exit and the time for quiet was ripped away.

The door stood wide open and he saw the body of the priest whose wrist Sajul had crushed. But all that blood could not have come from him. The spirits fled completely, leaving him to his own emotions and outside the door what he saw made him sick as he passed the threshold. Sajul had done this.

On the floor lay more than one priest, on the floor, on the walls, on the candle stands and benches. Ardeth stepped into a river of blood and had to cover his face from the horrid stench of burnt flesh. Spots within the bloodflow were dry and black, blood boiled into the surface of the floor with whole limbs leading from darkened spots as if the fire had not touched them.

The temple was deathly hushed, as silent as his mind right now. There were no words, mental or spoken, for this. And as he traversed the hall back towards the outer chamber, it only got worse. Blood wept down the walls mingled with flesh pieces and fabric and hair, causing Ardeth to swallow in sheer disgust of the power that had done this. Across the link between them Imhotep could sense his shock and wondered what was happening. Ardeth freely willing the images of this disgrace to the priest, but looked for no reaction. He was too enveloped in these visions before him, too terrible to look at or away from.

When he reached the outer chamber he heard a sound and froze, fearing Necromancer's power could now kill him if before it could not. But it wasn't his former-friend that made the sound, the retching and whimpering that came from the corner. Ardeth turned his head and sought through the stray bodies and parts until his eyes landed upon one single life, one person left intact and unmolested. The young boy he had let live.

The young priest's wide, terrorized eyes caught him looking and he whimpered, backing against the wall as far away as he could. "What happened?" Bay asked, not really needing an answer. Perhaps it was a need to affirm reality that made him speak.

"He came," the boy said in low, frightened tones. "He came and he used such dark powers. The Staff of Osiris. I've never…and the screams. The screams filled the halls, the rooms, everything." He issued a laugh on the verge of hysteria. "I can still hear them screaming. Can't you?" He needed air and Ardeth began towards him with the intent to help, but the kid only jerked away and laughed again. "He gave me a message for you. For Imhotep's Fear. He said to tell you Nefertiri is going to die."

So he had known all along the spirits would free him. Confusion spread through him, but fear for Evelyn's life burned like a wildfire. He had to get back to the palace and learn where she was. Necromancer was already ahead of him and there was no time to spare. "Come with me," he told the boy, but the priest refused to get up.

"No! I'm not going anywhere with you!" The priest buried his face in his hands, wiping desperately at his fresh tears. "I'm gonna be sick."

Ardeth took advantage of his distraction to approach and crouch by him. Laying a hand on the boy won a startled cry, but the Med-Jai didn't let him go. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to hunt the thing that did this. You cannot stay in here. Come outside with me." He gave him little leave to disagree, yanking him to his feet and urging him towards the door.

Outside the night air hit them like a thousand blessings and Ardeth let him go, allowing him to sink to his knees and gasp for fresh air. "What am I going to do?" he lamented in a shaken tone as he rubbed his temples. The priest gave Ardeth a sidelong glance. "Are you going to kill me?"

The Med-Jai shook his head. "If I were going to kill you, would I have taken the trouble to bring you out here?" He sniffed and looked out across the night-splashed desert. "As to what you will do, I suggest you find a small town and take some rest. Try to forget what you have seen and make a new life."

"Yeah right," the boy muttered. "I'll be seeing that in my dreams until the day I die. Are you really the mythical 'Imhotep's Fear'? What the hell was that…what was he?"

"He is someone I'm going to have to kill. I must leave now, in fact. Is there any transportation here?" He looked down at the shivering, ever-distrusting boy. He may very well be in danger by this one, if he followed him to the palace and exposed him.

But whatever might have been hidden in his dark eyes faded. He pointed to the left of the temple stairs. "Around to the side there's horses, if that beast didn't kill them all. There's also a car. The Overseer has the key in his office." The priest shuddered and swallowed back in memory of the horror.

Ardeth looked back into the temple and inhaled deeply. Though he was loathe to return to the vision of mayhem inside, he had to concede a car would make this desperate trip go faster. Necromancer was full of half-truths, but with Evelyn he would take no chances.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Gross, huh? :-O

**To Reviewers**:

**Marxbros** – Thank you! I thought the spirits might come off as hokey, so I'm happy to hear that some thought it was cool. :-D I think I've been at this story too long! And thanks for compliments on Rick and Rey. :-) Original characters are always something I'm iffy on doing, but what people say gives me confidence to bring them into play. Now to post my many Ardeth/Angela MarySues! ;-) Ha. Not really, no. Anyways, thanks a bunch, my friend! A birdie is telling you now that she looks forward to more **Hereafter** when time allows. ;-)

**Mommints** – I'll be setting up you and Neccy's marriage in the Ardeth's Wives fic…I hadn't thought of that. ;-) Lol. Thanks for the feedback!! It means a bunch! And email about my site…the only email I got around that time was the email with the link to Dr. Hawass's site…I could swear I replied to that. :-O Hmm…maybe I planned on it and had to leave the computer. Doh! Sorry about that…I'll fish through my cluttered inbox and see what I can't turn up. :-) And as for writing/time, well, the trick is to write a bunch beforehand and during the weeks between posting, instead of having to think up plot, just fine-tune what you have and make it fall in with other ideas you've added to the story since your "rough draft". So far I've only done that with this fic, for which I'm grateful now…which is why my other stories, IE: Mummy/LOTR, take weeks to post. ;-)

**Lula** – Hehehe, yes, I know I would be horrified. :-D But these things I love doing to Ardeth. ;-) Rick might take a liking to her perhaps. He's darn cute when he's flirty. ;-) Thanks, Lu! I'm glad you thought that section on Rick's studliness was funny. ;-) I wouldn't mind a ride on the O'Connell express myself. :-O Er that wasn't out loud, was it? ;-) Thanks for the compliments! :-D

**Jessie C** – Thanks! And thanks for the updates on your stories and sharing your ideas with me. :-) I hope you update Terror again soon!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks! It's nice to hear someone else getting inspired and using their imaginations…now if only we could somehow hook our imaginations to some sort of Matrix and all of us have an Ardeth. ;-) Ah, that would be the life. Thank you for letting me know what you thought of the spirits. As I said to Marx, that's something I was iffy about. :-D 

**Marcher** – Hehe…I had to put poor Ardeth through some more…he was up for a dose. But see, it turned out okay, huh? :-D Thanks…I'm very pleased to hear people thought it was creepy and not dumb. And thanks also for feedback on Rick and Rey…I usually ignore his love life when putting Evy with someone else, so I thought this time around I'd at least give him a foot in the door. ;-) Thanks, my friend!

**Deana** – Thanks as always for your feedback as well! I'm glad you approve of the nasty, terrible things I'm doing to Ardeth. ;-D Maybe someday he'll get a little break from all this insanity. :-D Thanks!


	28. Trust Me

**Speak Softly**  
Trust Me

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The room was shadowy and dark, given only a small measure of light from what was outside and that of the single candle on the nightstand. Dressed in a soft, white nightgown of sheer material she stood with a heavy heart at the window, leaning against the sill as she watched snow drifting to the frozen ground. The ring of Osiris felt oddly heavy against her finger. Evelyn closed her eyes and fidgeted with the symbol of her slavery on her hand. It was done now.

The ceremony had been strange to her, a mixture of modern clothing and ancient rituals. The night seemed to have wept for the fates being sealed, for there had been no joy in the small temple of Osiris that adjoined to the palace. Even the lights had been dimmed—fitting for a marriage that had taken place when day was gone. Celestine had married them with a cool expression and President Roosevelt had taken his 'honored' place to watch, his eyes filled with contempt for Imhotep. The room had seemed intensely silent during the ceremony and the reception afterwards quiet and unassuming.

Imhotep had been charming, despite the obvious hatred coming from the Americans. They weren't very impressed with him, but that was a given. He wasn't impressed with them either. She saw it when Roosevelt walked in, aided by a cane and a helping hand. The same expression he had given when she explained England's Parliament to him. Confusion and disproval. He could be so arrogant at times.

But she couldn't stay angry with him over that. It was his way, something she had grown to accept long before the proposal. Aside from his small lapses into pride he had been pleasantly patient today, gentle and undemanding. He understood how hard this was for her and seemed to be trying his best to not give her reason to fear. Even his claiming kiss had not been as possessing as she may have imagined.

Evy brushed her fingers against the window and again tried to touch the mock stars on its pane. It was getting very late. Sometime after midnight, to be sure. What would happen when he retired from the business he attended? Would he make her act as his wife? It would be asked someday, whether tonight, tomorrow or next year. He would expect it. Evy rubbed her arms together in the chill from the window and wondered if she could give it. It would be better to come on her terms rather than his. "I have to forget you, Ardeth," she whispered, searching the outside as if he would appear. She would forget him and forget Rick. She was a queen now.

She was not alone. Behind her the bedroom door opened slowly and light streamed in from the hall, then faded quickly. He left the light off and she could hear him approaching slowly, every footstep asking her the question he would have on his mind. "Why have you not gone to bed, my queen?" he said in a soft tone. A tone that wondered if she were willing to give of herself.

Evelyn turned her back to the outside and ran her eyes across her king in the candlelight. He was very handsome, dressed all in black and looking on her with almost caring eyes. _When will you turn on me?_ she thought, meeting his dark vision. Evy brushed her straightened hair behind her ears and bowed her head. "I didn't know if you wanted me to sleep."

Imhotep took a few steps around her, watching and removing his robe, then worked at his gold cufflinks. When he neared she tensed. "You thought I would force you tonight," he assumed neutrally, crossing his arms when his sleeves were free.

"I…I wasn't sure what you would do."

His nod was slow as he closed in and stretched forth a hand to stroke her cheek. Those cool, black eyes measured her face and form. "I desire you, Nefertiri. I have thought of you, coming to me as a lady comes to her lord. Allowing for enjoyment, if not love." His fingers softly made a trail down her neck to a wayward strand of hair, which he brought to his lips to kiss. "This is what I ask of you. That you come to me with your desire, offering it freely and without fear. Perhaps some day you will give this gift to me." Evy stilled as he leaned warmly into her, pressing his lips into her own. His gaze made her tremble. The kiss was soft and ended lingeringly. "But I will not demand it."

He stayed close, fingering her hair gently as he looked her over again, his want clear. "Imhotep, I…I cannot love you," she stammered in a small voice, regretting it immediately after. Was she a fool?

Yet he remained controlled, if displaying his irritation openly. "I know for whom your love remains," he replied firmly, but his expression quickly softened once more. Imhotep exhaled and traced her jaw with his fingertips. "Therefore I will not ask of it." Her heart pounded as he leaned in again, pressing his mouth to her jaw and trailing to her neck. He wasn't really rough with her unless angry, but never completely gentle either. Yet this was pleasant…as pleasant as it could be, given the circumstances. Evy closed her eyes as he pulled her closer, caressing her flesh and silk with warm hands. "Ask me to stop, my queen, and I shall give you leave to rest."

His hand felt heavy, draped over her shoulder as he explored the other side with his hot kiss. Evy gazed over him with a held breath, wondering what to do. The time for her to protest was rapidly running out. Her mind kept yelling at her to stop him, to not give in and to hope for Ardeth or Rick to save her…but what if it would never be so? If she wanted to be honest with herself, it likely wouldn't. For peace she could do this. For the sake of not waiting for what would never come.

She would never be rescued. No one could cross the border without the spells and she didn't even want them to, for their sakes. They would be safe, away from Imhotep's wrath. They would go on, find other lives and be happy. Evy rested her head against Imhotep's strong shoulder and inhaled his scent, looking for things to make this easier. The incense from the temple coated his clothing—always did, for he was sure to awaken Osiris daily even still. It was soft and strong, masculine and warm. It was sensual.

If she could keep him here in England, so much the better. It would stop her loved ones from coming against him and save their lives. A long, luxurious honeymoon here in the snowbound privacy of her home country would be something he could give, she knew. It was something he would be highly pleased to give. Imhotep's breath hit her ear as he pressed his lips there and whispered, "Do not do this out of fear, Nefertiri."

Hands crawled through her hair, caressing and urging her to face him gently, but firmly. Those midnight eyes of his smoldered with a passion unlike before when she had lain beneath him unwillingly. He wanted her to want and enjoy this, and for the sake of peace she wanted that as well. Evy caressed her hand down his shoulder and took a shaky breath. "I…"

The priest's expression was not triumphant, nor arrogant or lustful. Imhotep drew her body to his, allowing his hands to search more freely. "Forget him, my Nefertiri," he breathed suggestively, tracing his fingers down the center of her back. "I will give you such a life if you will but let me. Will you not let me?" Evy stared off into the shadows as he tasted her throat hotly.

_Forget him_. She didn't want to do that. The idea made her heart sink. But what else could she do? To endlessly want something out of reach would be foolish and more damaging in the end. And so it was with this thought that Evelyn made the terrible choice to try and forget Ardeth, Rick and Jonathan with a kiss.

At first he was unresponsive, his eyes closed as he savored her willingness, but when he began returning it she knew the tide had come and would be unstoppable. A hand trailed down her side smoothly and curved to hold her hip as his mouth found her jaw again. Her body was tense despite her fervent wish to relax and she wondered why this was so hard. It wasn't as if she had never been with him before. This would be like every other time, wouldn't it?

It wouldn't. She was letting him do these things when he offered her the chance to deny them. He had taken her before when she would have screamed for him to stop, but now that the choice was hers she allowed him to continue. If Ardeth knew she were doing this…if Rick knew. Ardeth would be hurt, but Rick? He would be angry with her. He would hate her for this, maybe. No one despised Imhotep more than he and this would be hard for him to deal with. He would never understand. She barely understood it herself.

Without her permission tears began sliding down her cheeks as he drew one of the straps of her gown down to the middle of her arm and replaced it with his kiss, marking her pale shoulder in the stillness between them. Evy tried very hard to calm herself and return his passion, caressing her hand over his arm, but in her concentration of ending her tears her grip became tight. A whimper escaped her lips and caused him to stop. "I'm sorry," she said, desperately trying to get a hold of herself.

Imhotep straightened and looked down on her with disappointed softness. "Nefertiri," he began a little impatiently, but she cut him off.

"I'm just so tired," she explained to him, shaking her head and stepping closer. Despite all her efforts her tears were coming faster, blinding her nearly as she surprised him with an embrace. He was her husband now and it was his place to comfort her if he could pull himself from the evil in his heart. And she needed it from anyone right now, even if it were just to pretend he was someone else, maybe the old Imhotep she knew. She just felt so alone.

So Evy begged him for his comfort with arms around his waist and a head pillowed on his chest. Imhotep found her hair, petting uncertainly. "I'm tired of fighting everyone. I'm tired of worrying about tomorrow and putting things off so I can worry about them until I can't stop them from happening." She couldn't do this anymore. For two long years she had fought him, fear and depression all at once with little to no break. And she could do it with Jonathan to there to give her hope, but now she had no one. No one to save her from this monster. She was tired of being afraid and most of all tired of hopes that meant nothing. The king wrapped her into his arms again and held her firmly, brushing her hair with his fingers. "I just don't know what to do." 

"Rest, my queen," he whispered to her, pulling back and gazing down at her in understanding. His fingers pushed her hair back. "Stop all your worries and all your fears. Forget the world outside and close your eyes. Close them." Evy obeyed his command and shivered in the chill of the room as she listened to his movements. His warmth disappeared from her chest as Imhotep came to stand behind her. She wasn't sure whether to cringe or melt when hands touched her shoulders. He started rubbing softly and she came closer to the latter. "You shake inside and wear yourself out with your cares."

Those suggestive fingers slid down her arms, causing her senses to tingle…causing her pleasure as he whispered, so near and husky, "Let go of everything and let me touch you. Let me please you as I should. As I can." His strong chest molded to her back, and Imhotep did not wait for her to give him permission, trailing his hand around her side to her stomach, caressing the silk as he moved up to her chest. He felt so good against her in the chill of the room. Her breath hit the air as the heat of his mouth closed over her shoulder blade. 

It sounded so easy and so freeing. Just let go. Accept it. Let go of the hope inside, for that was what was killing her. It sounded terrible to give up on hope, but she had been holding herself so tense for so long that she just didn't think she could make it anymore. Imhotep completed the circle around her, coming back to her view with half-lidded, wanting eyes that were pleasant to look on. He cupped her cheeks and brought his lips to hers, whispering with his kiss, "One night, Nefertiri. And if you bid it, I will never touch you again."

Imhotep dropped his hands to her hips, caressing slowly, teasing her body to want and the sensations it produced surprised her. Her rising desire was just a physical reaction, but it gave her guilt. He was a demon. He should be hurting her and nothing else. But after all the pain, why shouldn't she enjoy his gentleness? For peace she could do this. For peace.

His mouth opened hers and Evy closed her eyes, becoming one with his warmth as he wrapped her into him. She found herself trembling inside, just as he had said, but now it was more than just cares and worries. It was fear of letting all those horrid things go. Fear of what would happen if it were suddenly quiet inside. But she wanted so badly just to rest. This didn't have to be the hardest thing she had ever done. One day it would come on his terms if not hers. All she had to do was take one step away from the light and it would become easier. Then she could rest.

So she took that step and urged him to follow her, then curled her fingers around his shirt when they reached their destination. Evy pulled him down onto the bed with her, willing herself to give in to the pleasure and finding herself both frightened and interested when Imhotep brushed her gown up her leg and laid his strong body down onto hers with a kiss. Instead of hurt and pent up energy crashing through her system as she had expected, there was only sudden emptiness. But she was right. It was easier now.

~~~~~~~

The gift of insight was fueling his fire to end the evil reign of Imhotep, for driving upon open sands in pursuit of the king's expansive palace he had known first that Evelyn was alive and safe, wherever she was—hopefully far from Necromancer's reach. And also he had been gifted the knowledge of her marriage. But it was nothing. It meant nothing. It was invalid as far as he was concerned. She had been sold away into a marriage she did not want, a ceremony performed before gods that were not hers.

Hood and robe drawn, the shade of Ardeth Bay stalked through the night, car abandoned, bent on one goal. The sky was a deep and stormy teal, and the wind whipped through the hood, caressing his set expression. The priest's days were numbered. His reign would end in blood.

Chilly and alone, Ardeth kept his mind calm and free of the anger that whipped against the shores of his thoughts. He was angry inside for her and tempted to let his vengeance drive him, but that emotion bred rashness and rash actions bred mistakes. This he had learned quite well over his return. Now was the time to think: to act, but to do it with wisdom. With Necromancer gone claiming her blood and Imhotep's advances, Evelyn needed him now more than ever. He had to find her. Someone at the palace would know. Someone would have the knowledge of where Imhotep had taken Evy or Ardeth would have blood.

He was clad in the robes of Osiris and hopefully that would buy his way through the palace—if only for a short time. Gathering the soft material in his hand, Ardeth passed the cold suspicious glare of several jackals as he dared the steps openly. Imhotep would have no clue where he was and what his intent was. He was learning how to conceal his mind from the other and with time hoped to drown out the dark thoughts of his unwanted guest.

The doors were parted for such a prestigious visitor and Ardeth grunted at the arrogance of the priest's servants to assume no one would come in the guise of a priest of Osiris, that truly any so dressed should be what they portrayed. It was foolish and helpful. They let him enter without more than a glance as he passed his hand before his face in the correct symbol of blessings. It occurred to him as he walked in that he had never been through the main entrance to this place. The first time he had been spirited through a back way and taken immediately to the dungeon where he met Sajul.

Ardeth folded his hands together in long, black sleeves and kept his eyes averted to the floor for fear he may be recognized. A very ornate door was down the long opening hallway and he knew that was his first destination. His footsteps led him to the throne room quickly and there he stopped beside two guards. "I have come to see the king," he told them in a slightly thicker accent than he was accustomed to using. "May I have entry?"

The guard to his left replied curtly, "The king has gone. You will have to speak with Nashean." Apparently as revered as priests of Osiris were, Imhotep and his followers did not have the love of their servants.

The Med-Jai bowed his head in thanks and dared another question. "Where may I find him?"

"He is in his personal chambers," was the answer and no more was given. He was expected to know where the caretaker was and for now that was what he would have to feign.

Ardeth again bowed his head and left them swiftly, heading down the first hall he came to. Would so official a person be found on the third floor as Imhotep and Evelyn would have been? He chanced lifting his head enough to see the path before him. Perhaps if he stopped someone less knowledgeable about the business of Imhotep they would answer without considering why he should not be asking.

As it was, for a long span the only people to be found wandering at this hour were guards and jackals, neither of whom he felt would be wise to disturb. In frustration he decided to chance the upstairs, but by chance a familiar voice stopped him. It was soft and sweet and coaxing, speaking in low, breathy tones that made Ardeth's brow furrow. He followed the sound to an unassuming door down a dim hallway.

Grasping the handle and turning revealed two forms against one another, one dressed in black and the other in a soft brown dress that was coming down a tanned shoulder. Ardeth shook his head and smiled at the two shocked expressions. "You really are asking for death, you know," he commented to the male, who now glared angrily.

"You!" he hissed, peeking out of the closet and frowning. "You hit me with the pan!"

The boy's judgment was obviously clouded; either that or he was really as arrogant as he seemed. But his lover Asimah? She noticed the clothing Ardeth now wore and her eyes widened. "I need your help," he said, looking to her and playing off the natural fear of priests these people had.

The young man went back to kissing his girlfriend on the jaw, muttering between, "And why should I help you?"

Asimah kneed her boyfriend in the thigh, hissing, "Because he is a priest, you fool! At least I think he's a priest…" Ardeth nodded. Her boyfriend groaned, but stopped his advances and looked up with slightly worried eyes. "We are sorry, Priest. How may we be of service?"

"All I need is to know where Nashean's private chambers are." He prayed fervently she would find nothing strange about that request.

Her brow creased, but she made no comment of his question. Asimah came into the hall and pointed to her left. "There is a stairwell that way on the right. Take it to the second floor. Once you get there, go straight two halls and turn right on the second. His room will be at the end on the left."

Nodding, Ardeth repeated softly, "Left, right, straight…"

"…right, right," the other man breathed to himself and Ardeth frowned. "I could swear his room was on the right side."

Asimah rolled her eyes and shook her head, muttering, "Quiet. Left, right, straight, right, _left_."

Before the confusion got any worse, he decided to chance the girl's advice over the man's. The Med-Jai nodded his understanding and began down the left hall, which was actually to his right. "Right," he said, turning away and picking up his pace. He had to grin when the young girl called after him, "_Left!_"

Ardeth followed her directions just as she had given them, finding a door decorated no better than any of the others he had seen. This Nashean seemed to value practicality over pride—a trait he considered worthy in formidable foes. He would have to take great care in making sure this man was secure before leaving. The Med-Jai raised his hand to knock, but at the last second his attention was snared and he stiffened. His bond with Imhotep quickly changed from the cold discussion of business to something wholly more evil.

He could sense Imhotep's want of Evelyn heighten and that froze Ardeth to the spot in which he stood. So gentle an intention would have been his, but the priest was displaying it for his new queen. Imhotep could feel Ardeth watching him and was irritated by that fact at first, but decided in pride to allow the Med-Jai audience for what he was hoping would take place. He wanted his watcher to understand that one day Evelyn would forget him and move on. He wanted Ardeth to do the same for the sake of peace. Or for the sake of ease, more accurately.

Pulling away from the door momentarily, Ardeth leaned against the window at the end of the hall and found himself unable to tear himself away from what was happening miles away. _Be strong, Evelyn. See him for what he is_, he thought, wishing the bond was between he and her instead. But it wasn't and he could not convey his concerns. Evy was on her own in her choices.

Her choices allowed Imhotep close enough to touch, for he could feel an appreciation for softness within the mind of the king. Such a thing made his heart ache, but more than any betrayal, Ardeth felt despair at her giving up. Mild surprise willed through Imhotep as if a prize was just handed into his care—a prize he meant to claim and take pride in. Imhotep forgot his audience and fell into the possibility lying before him. There was no mistake in what was happening. Nothing short of certainty would so heighten any man's desire.

Taking his back from the chill pane of glass behind him, Ardeth turned and gazed out at the night, his dirty hands tracing the dark, slick stones below. His black eyes looked to the sky for the white watcher, so fair and hopeful, but the king's gray cloud would keep it away forever. A veil likened to that was now pulled over Ardeth's heart as he felt Imhotep's pleasure growing. The Med-Jai's fists tightened with each flicker of enjoyment. He had to reach her. He had to rescue her from this life she was allowing herself to sink into. Had she truly lost all hope? Ardeth closed his eyes and willed his mind to close, blocking out the emotions and the prying. He could not allow this to shake him in his purpose. She would not suffer this for long.

The Med-Jai turned back to the door and took hold of a pale silver knocker, hit it once upon the metal before him and waited. It took less than a moment for the call to be answered and when the door opened his eyes fell upon someone familiar. This man who had followed him to the threshold of the dungeon and knocked him out, but not without whispering a secret into his ear, an assurance that hope wasn't lost. Was this man a friend?

Likewise Ardeth was recognized and after a small hesitation, Nashean drew him into the room with startled eyes. "Wandering around the palace alone," he muttered, locking the great silver door. "Where on earth did you get that robe?"

Ardeth drew his hood down and folded his arms tensely. "Imhotep," he said with renewed distaste, "gave it to me as a gift."

The other man went to a small drink cart and poured himself a little something, then offered his guest of the same bottle. Ardeth declined and Nashean drank deeply, then looked his guest over. "The king's wit seems to have dulled."

Bay nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"Indeed," the caretaker agreed, pouring another. "One can never tell with Imhotep. He is a snake whose pride clouds his judgment. _Sometimes_. What can I do for you, Imhotep's Fear?"

The Med-Jai watched Nashean begin to pace before him with ever watching eyes and a neutral expression. This man spoke to the point and right now Ardeth valued that, and so would mirror it. "Transportation to wherever Imhotep is. Or at least directions. Supplies, perhaps."

The tanned man nodded, tugging at a white cuff and biting his cheek. He stopped his pacing and offered a smile finally. "These things I can do. You seem to have fooled my guards with your disguise, so my open friendship will only quell any doubts. But we must be quick. I don't want you hanging around long." He began for the door, motioning Ardeth to join.

The Med-Jai narrowed his brow slightly and grasped the man's forearm, feeling caution well up in him. Surely it would not be this easy. He had expected a fight, but this man offered everything he needed freely. The world did not work this way. "You betray your king?" he asked, his dark eyes glinting to and fro between each of Nashean's. "Who are you?"

Nashean's smile broadened as he opened the silver exit. At the end of this walk could lay either a trap or the help he so desperately needed. "I like to think of myself as a friend of the people. You will have to know the spells to get through the great barrier."

They entered the hall and Ardeth pulled his hood back up, taking comfort in false security. Imhotep's bond did provide advantages, small and helpful. "I already know the spells," he replied, following closely and darting an uneasy glance down a dim hall. Perhaps he was too accustomed to being betrayed, but this felt too easy. He would have to proceed with caution and in this case, brute force if it came down to it.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Hey, like the chapter name says, trust me. :-O Hey…Ardeth's on the way to save the day, eh? :-D

**To Reviewers**:

**Aenigmatic** – Thanks for the email! I know it's very angsty…I hope you can continue, but I'd understand if it was too much. I'm glad you gave it and Who We Once Were a try though! :-D

**Zarah** – Thanks for saying so! :-) I love the Ardeth/Evy pairing and wish more people would give it a try! :-O *sniff* There are plenty of author friends I'd love to see their take on the possibilities, but alas. We are a small population, us Ardeth/Evy fans. Great A/E action can be found here at this wonderful story being written: **storyid=1275345** and though this is a Rick/Evy story, there is some A/E subtext in it, which I'm grateful for…I cheer her on whenever I have a mind so she'll add to this story: **storyid=472007 **I had to paste them like that because ff.net won't even let you put the text of a link. How silly, no offense to management, but crikey. :-/ I guess just paste those up after the ? in the ff.net story linkie thing. :-D

Anyway, thanks! I'm not really sure where other A/E can be found…there were some I recall here at ff.net, but I can't readily recall the names. One by Elbee I believe.

**Elizabeth** – Hehe! :-O Well, I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do about that particular storyline. ;-) You never know though…Neccy could be referring to when she dies as an old lady, cause he's just a jerk. I'm not even sure myself. :-D Thanks for the review!

**Lula** – Never too late to bail. ;-) And yes, Immy is extremely handsome. *swoon* I wouldn't mind being married to him. ;-D BUT of course I would be the ruler and he the slave. ;-) Yes, Neccy's full of obscene messages, no? Even if I killed Evy at some point I just don't think I could reduce her to a boiled spot of blood with arms and legs. ;-) That would be so darn cruel to do to Ardeth. By Joe I think I'll do it! ;-) Lol. No, not really. That's just too far I think for my blood. Anyway, thanks for the review my friend! I'm glad you liked!

**Mommints** – Thanks for taking the time to review at work! :-D I'm glad you're enjoying…yes, poor Evy's in some danger. Muahaha. Must pass it around. ;-) Can't let Ardeth have all the fun. Thanks muchly again!

**Marxbros** – Hehe…well, I'm glad it surprised you…I like to keep everyone guessing with him, you just never know what Neccy's gonna do. :-D So it's nice he's not predictable. :-D As for Celestine, yes, I'll explain a little more about her as time passes. Her powers come from the priests that Ardeth just left, however…they're conduits giving power not just to Immy, but his living priests as well, including Celly. She'll have some more background info next chapter. Thanks! Glad to have read **Hereafter**! Now must wait for 33! :-O Nooooo! ;-) Nice clilffhanger.

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Heeey! Celly's a jerk…that's definitely true. ;-) Thanks for the review! How's Unfortunate going?

**Marcher** – Thanks! I'll take some of that R&R WITH Ardeth. ;-) *entertain's suntan oiling his body* God gawd, where is the Matrix? Anyway, I wanted to apologize for the wording I used in the last review I left for Captain. I reread it and felt kinda bad. I didn't mean I hated Furby character like…as in you did bad or like I hated that you wrote him. I just meant he was bein' a jerk. But anyway, I know you prolly knew I meant that, but I just wanted to say that anyway, cause I worded that kinda harshly in the heat of the moment and felt like a jerkface afterwards. So publicly I admit what a dork I can be, as if you people didn't already know. ;-) Thanks for the review, my friend. Don't know what will ultimately happen to Evy, but I'm tossing around some ideas. :-D

**Jessie C** – Thanks! And congrats on a fine end to Terror. :-D Good job!

**Deana** – Thanks, my friend! :-D Yes, I did get a little gross, huh? All the better to make Necromancer appear darker than before. Muahaha! :-D I hope tonight you'll give me a taste of that new Mummy fic you've been working on. ;-D *hint hint*


	29. Foreshadowing

**Speak Softly**  
Foreshadowing

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Outside afternoon passed away into evening almost deceptively unobtrusive. The thin, dark-skinned mercenary fixed him with a glare across the table they were seated at in a forgotten little bread shop in town. His air bespoke the usual—shady, willing to do anything for profit, cowardly. He pointed a finger with cool, black eyes and shook his head with faltering determination "You don't know that boss of mine. I tell you where she went and I'm liable to get shot. He's got these beady eyes, you know? Cold and black, that stare you right through. He'll know all right that I've helped you."

The men in Layla's little hideaway were true to what little Kaysaan had said they would be. None would go to Jorin's and help Layla, despite everything she had done for them. This woman had cooked, cleaned, took care of the children and her disappearance was met with no appreciation, and some even _praised_ that she would now be shown her place. Jonathan had surprised even himself when he punched Mahdi for making a crass joke on _how_ she would be shown. The big Arab would have probably given him a nice little beating afterwards, too, if it hadn't been for Esam.

After evading that little scuffle Jonathan had been told to leave and been given care of Sania and Kaysaan for their like of him, too boot. Cold people lived in that little hovel, colder than he would have imagined at first. They didn't care one way or another, not about Layla, the children or each other. The only bit of help Esam had offered was to convey a message to one of the mercenaries he played with, telling him that Jonathan would be here at the forgotten bake shop and needed some help. If the mercenary showed, he showed. If not, Esam had informed him rather explicitly that nothing else would be done.

The black man leaned back in his wooden chair, took a long, impatient breath and fixed an eye on the fidgeting Kaysaan. "I can't say as I would have come, either, if Esam hadn't have given me back my losses just to hear you out."

Jonathan, playing it cool, leaned back as well and indulged in the other man's little slip. "Where she went, you say? So, she's not at Jorin's little hideout?"

The mercenary pursed his lips and shook his head a little smartly. "All right. You get that one for free, but I'm not telling you any more! People don't have a habit of staying alive if they interfere with Jorin."

Drastic measures were going to have to be taken to get any information out of this one. Oh, he wanted to tell Jonathan right enough. Otherwise he would be walking out the door right now. But he was waiting, his thoughts driving towards a certain little incentive to give the information he was desperately trying to keep locked in that little mind of his. Jonathan folded his hands on the table, smiled and gave Sania a little glance. Money, he didn't have enough of, nor gold or water. But what could not be bought could be taken by force if one had the correct arsenal at their fingertips.

In the shadowy corner the little six-year-old girl began to pout, turning those devastating brown eyes upon their victim as her little bottom lip expanded. Carnahan had to give her credit, too, for the quivering effect and the moisture in her eyes. Naturally some of this was real, he knew, real fear for her mother's life, but Sania was one sharp little cookie if he said so himself. She knew when to keep cool and when to play the adults around her for all they were worth. And this man seemed pliable enough.

The dark man narrowed his brow and looked at the little girl uncomfortably and straightened in his chair. Jonathan disguised a grin when he glanced in his direction, then looked again at the child. "L-look, little girl, I can sympathize with you. I really can. But, see… Did I mention Jorin's got this nasty little goatee? Makes him look like the devil! So you can appreciate what I'm risking just by being here."

Kay drummed his fingers on the table and looked decidedly downcast himself. "Yeah, same thing you risk by not telling your boss about Esam's little hideout, huh?"

Jonathan allowed himself a private little grin and thought, _That's a good lad._ The dark man shook his finger again. "Now, that's not fair! After all, I am getting paid. A man's gotta earn a living somehow and Jorin's cheap!"

With a subtle little gesture prearranged for if the occasion called for it, Jonathan beckoned Sania to the next part in her role and the girl was flawless. Her steps were perfectly tiny, adorable really, and her eyes big as she moved and when she reached the mercenary, he looked as if a snake approached. A delicate little hand found his arm and Sania opened her mouth to grace them with her ever-so-rare voice. "But my muma needs me." Jonathan winced at the effect.

"Bloody hell," the dark man exhaled, giving Jonathan a death glare. "You're a swindler, plain and simple. Can't even pay a man properly for the information he's got, and instead you turn this on me! By rights I oughta tell Jorin I saw you here, 'cause he's looking for a man that fits your description." He looked down again at the pouting little child that was trying to find a way into his lap and unconsciously held his arms out. "You really wanna know, kid? You really _gotta_ know?"

Sania chewed nervously on her fingernail, Jonathan liked to think that was for effect, and nodded her head twice. The mercenary sighed. "All right, you little monster. I'll tell you, but you aren't gonna like it. Your mum's been taken to the palace with a shipment of female slaves." His attention focused on Jonathan. "Look, I don't know what that bald bastard does with his girls, I mean we aren't told anything of that sort, but a man like him takes what he wants."

Jonathan shook his head. "He don't…he has, but not usually. They were all girls, you say? How many?"

"Three of 'em, all in their prime."

Imhotep had taken a few pretty girls as concubines rightly enough, but it wasn't the norm after Evy. Even still, it _was_ possible, entirely possible that Layla could be chosen for such a thing. She was beautiful and the priest liked his women dark-haired. But there were many girls at the palace that served as maids or cooks that Jonathan assumed hadn't been officially taken as Imhotep's property. He frowned, knowing that might not mean anything. Even if she wasn't a slave to Imhotep himself, there were plenty of human guards that the king had to keep happy. His fingers curled at that thought. "Right," he breathed, fixing the man with a firm expression. "One more question and you can go."

The mercenary eased Sania off his lap and sat on the edge of his chair, ready to leave quickly. "Can't stop beating a horse when it's down, can you? You know he's probably got men watching this place."

Jonathan shook his head. "All I want to know is where Naseera is. She's Sanie's big sister, about eight now, taken last year. Same look about her."

"Eight-year-old girl," the dark man breathed in thought. "Jorin don't usually sell kids unless they're to rich people like that Hughes fellow he's been stalking. He might have sold her to the palace, might not. I don't remember and that's not a lie."

Sania stepped away from the dirty table and Carnahan could tell this wasn't any act. He sighed and looked the other man over, sizing him up for the truth. In truth he himself couldn't rightly remember if there had been children at the palace or not. Surely there must have been. Shaking his head, he held out his hand. "Thanks for the help. You've done a fine thing, my good man."

The mercenary took his hand, shook it and stood with a dirty look on his face. "Yes, well, to your health and if I get shot, I'm going to haunt you."

Jonathan leaned back in his chair and watched the man walk through the dusty kitchen into the storefront. Kay puckered his lips and looked to him expectantly. "To the palace, old man?" Carnahan rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Kay, to the palace. I'm gonna run you back by Esam's and see if he won't at least watch you until I can get back." The boy frowned, but Sania offered a bigger display of distaste for that idea.

Running to Jonathan, she firmly latched onto his waist and shook her head, causing him to sigh. Kaysaan gave him a smile. "We ain't got anywhere else to go, old man. Take us with you, or we'll follow and you know Esam won't care to stop us even if he did agree to let us stay there."

They had him there and he knew it. The two cunning little beasts that had worked with him to get this far were now taking advantage of him. Petting Sania's shoulders Jonathan looked down into two pleading eyes and for the first time in his life he wondered what being a dad might have been like. "We three make a good team, don't we? We sure got the best of him, huh?" Sania nodded, but the voice was altogether different than the one she had used on the mercenary.

"Did you? Might I ask how?"

A chill spread through Jonathan at the numerous fears that passed through him while he turned. At the back door stood a single man in a polished suit with his hair tied back, dark penetrating eyes and a business-like air about him. He stepped into the dust and behind him followed two very large men. The mercenary had been right. That little goatee and his cold confidence made him appear devilish.

Jonathan got to his feet and pushed Sania behind him protectively. It didn't even occur to him to say anything else. "I'll do anything, just don't hurt the kids. I'll work off their worth to sell, anything. Just let them be."

A smile spread across the man's face, this man he assumed to be _the_ Jorin himself by description and atmosphere. "I'm not here to hurt anyone, Mr. Carnahan. These look to be very charming children and because of who you are, I will let you keep them if that's your wish."

"W-who I am?"

Jorin nodded once and stopped a foot away from Jonathan, looking him up and down. "You are the brother of Nefertiri, aren't you? How fortuitous." 

~~~~~~~

_It would easily become the single most devastating piece of insight Ardeth would receive of his enemy. Pacing the sand in Imhotep's robes, commanding Imhotep's troops and waiting for his news was nothing if not intense. The king was nervous this night, as if some strange foresight granted him the knowledge that something was coming, be it battle or grief. One possibility stood out apart from all others of what the night would tell him._

_The Scorpion King had kidnapped Ancksunamun and Ardeth knew what her fate had been. Evelyn had told him that she had been killed with nothing left to resurrect. He knew also that he was dreaming of the night Imhotep had received that overwhelming knowledge. It was all over the air, screaming at what soul Imhotep had left. It was painful and pitiful and threatened the image of the monster Ardeth had built within his mind of this man._

_The creature was so terribly, horribly lonely right now. So terrified that his love was hurting or gone again from his grasp and after three thousand years of darkness he was not sure what having his light ripped away again would do to him. Ardeth had known Imhotep's infatuation with this woman was great, but somehow he had never conceived of it being so intense, so important to sustaining his humanity. This great love was his driving force; it was what transformed him into this evil being and what kept him from totally giving over to it. Having what was his taken away would enrage Imhotep, but it was so much more. For all his pride, for all his evil and fury, he was still clinging to something good inside. He could genuinely hurt for Ancksunamun and fear for her and mourn._

_There was a fire lit in the middle of camp and sitting by it was Evy and her brother. Jonathan slept, but Evelyn was watching him with a worried look on her face, as if she too knew something bad was on the horizon. If only he could tell her who was inside this monster's mind. If only she could comfort him from this and tell him Imhotep was nothing more than a beast. Ardeth was afraid of what would happen when the news came, for if Imhotep were this tense now… This was something he did not want to know. Imhotep had to die, had to be defeated and there was no question in his mind about the fact of that matter. He shouldn't have to know this or suffer the ups and downs, the certainties and doubts. He shouldn't have to understand this man. Killing was easy when you faced a foe you knew to be cowardly, evil and cruel. But when you knew they were forced into it because of love and a curse the lines between black and white began to bleed into one another._

_It angered him that he would grieve this monster. Ardeth looked into the night sky and found the beautiful moon and even that brought him pain for his enemy. Ancksunamun would often gaze at it and speak of its beauty to Imhotep. The stars above somehow reflected in her eyes sometimes. Dark time was their time. It always had been._

_And it would be never again and Ardeth guessed this was the real reason Imhotep had hidden the sky. Dark time was a cursed time now. In his immortality he had been strengthened physically. His sight had improved to a degree and his sense of smell and hearing; even his touch revealed more than it had in mortality. Hunting senses sharpened to forge the perfect monster. The perfect beast to carry out evil. These heightened senses were a gift, but as well a curse. For he had seen the soldier on horseback heading towards camp before any other had. He had sensed fear when he entered the grounds and could now hear him speaking with it to one of the captains._

_His heart sank. 'He's going to be angry' he said, and, 'I'm not giving this to him. Send someone else.' They knew him very well. His rage was already building and his thirst for blood growing at what he knew would come. The gods were punishing him. Why else would they take her away at every turn? Ardeth balled his fists and tried to calm himself, knowing that if his slaves saw him explode they would do anything—even die—to escape him and aiding his quest._

_And with his sensitive hearing he heard them come to a decision. "Give it to the woman. Let her taste his anger," the lieutenant suggested and Imhotep turned away when the elder glanced in his direction. How dare they cower from him and send his enemy with this type of news? Least of all did he want Nefertiri to tell him. If she smiled, if she gave him one look of triumph or indicated in any way that he and Ancksunamun deserved this… Ardeth shuddered back from the implications of the priest's deadly, murderous thoughts._

_"I bloody well will not!" Evy was saying, which won her a slap from the angry captain. The sound filled him with more rage, for delaying this only made his feelings that more desperate. Oh, how Imhotep didn't want to know, as much as Ardeth did not want to live this moment bearing down on him. Imhotep begged Osiris inwardly to hide the truth from him. But it was not to be._

_Sniffling and timid, Evelyn approached and startled when he whipped around with a glare Ardeth could not control, hotter than hell's depths. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the captain and lieutenant backing away from the fire. It mattered not. Imhotep would find them and kill them both for their stupidity and cowardice._

_It made Ardeth both pained and proud to see her like this, so afraid, but so strong. She dared to approach evil with bad news; every step she took was difficult and halting, but she made it somehow before him. "I'm s-supposed to…to give this to you," she stammered, holding up a plain box with a paper attached. Evy jumped when he snatched it away, and tried to back off, but his hand wrapped around her wrist to prevent her escape. He was going to need an outlet for his anger and he could think of no better person to express it upon._

_Ardeth knew now a new fear when walking the path of Imhotep. In all his pain of knowing the spark of goodness inside Imhotep he had forgotten the blackness that had all but quenched that spark out. He had to remind himself that Evelyn had lived through this. She was alive in England waiting for him. Imhotep's trembling fingers peeled apart the folded paper and he swallowed when he looked at the words written in symbols older than his own written language._

Imhotep, Lord of the Dead

I laugh at that title. I laugh at you, little priest. You awakened me expecting to defeat me. Well, what are you waiting for? I have been waiting for you to make your petty threats a reality for months now. Whelp of Osiris, do you not understand what you face? I am far older than you and have the power of Anubis at my control. What were you thinking? Your little Hom-Dai cannot compete with my power.

When I learned of the story between you and Ancksunamun, I admit I was intrigued. I knew love once as well. Of course that did not make me any more merciful when it came to killing your little pretty, but it was an entertaining account. I made her recite to me your story from the time she met you, to the dark corners you where took her and on up until that night you killed your king while I ravished her. Quite a high, don't you think? Such tragic words coming from a lovely, trembling mouth. Oh, I know you're angered by this, High Priest. Well, rest assured she is no longer in pain. Do you know what the curse of Anubis does to a man? Do you know what perversions he craves because of the blackness of the god? Ancksunamun found out. And, Imhotep, I plan on telling you in great detail. I'm a generous man, you see. I share.

She has a marvelous scream. Sorry, had a marvelous scream. I think I'll miss hearing it. Ah, but the story. I've had this letter copied just so I can read the gory tale again when I'm in need of entertaining. It all started with a beating…

_Ardeth's eyes hit every terrible letter. Every frightening detail of what Ancksunamun had suffered at the hands of a being that made Imhotep look like a spoiled child. The sarcasm bleeding through every sentence, the sheer apathy towards life…it frightened him. It made him thankful Imhotep had emerged the victor._

_Her bones had been broken, her skin sliced slowly and held up for her eyes to behold. Countless men, including the Scorpion King himself, had used her body for pleasure and pain. She had been beaten and burned and poisoned, forced to cut her own flesh away at the threat of more abuse. The sickening things in this letter made Ardeth's stomach tighten without need of Imhotep's emotion to back it up. If Evelyn had suffered these things he would have lost himself to rage and vengeance. Again this priest-king was not so hard to understand._

_Imhotep stared at the letter blankly, in shock as his senses soaked it in, his mind unable to refrain from picturing her face as it might have been in torment. Ardeth could feel the wind caressing his skin, could hear the laughter of men from the camp and sense fear coming from Evy, but the priest's emotions had fled, a violent current held back by a cracking dam. But it would come, it would hit him like a desert whirlwind, Ardeth knew. It was only a matter of time._

_The Med-Jai swallowed and let the letter flutter to the ground and away, then almost reverently opened the box that came with it. The Scorpion King's little token of esteem. When Imhotep's eyes hit the finger of his beloved something clicked inside and the tide began leaking into the openness of his heart. The box clattered to the sand as well, spilling its contents as tears filled his eyes. No, he shouldn't have to know this. It was too much, too terrible. He thanked God over and over within himself that Evelyn had not been captured by the Scorpion King, but knew also what it would have felt like if she had._

_Desperately needing to find something else to fill him the priest moved his wet eyes down to Evy, looking for that sign of triumph, that image of her being glad his goal had been thwarted. But there was none of that. Her eyes were wide and frightened, yes, but compassionate. Pitying. Instead of fighting to get away she touched his hand softly and said, "Imhotep…"_

_He had to get away from her, from the eyes watching him. His anger was so great right now he felt he could very well end every life surrounding him, but that would end also his chance at victory and though a part of him did not care anymore, something rational inside knew it would only cause him more grief. His need to kill the Scorpion King had just increased severely. Blood would flow as a river before the month was out._

_So he shoved her. Hard. Evelyn hit the sand with a yelp and though Ardeth wanted to help her, he couldn't. He knew that if he stayed Imhotep's emotions would boil over and he had no desire to live Evelyn's murder in even a dream. So he turned quickly from her, ignoring everything and everyone, seeking the only place of refuge he had in this unholy hour._

_As soon as the tent flap fell behind him Ardeth dropped to his knees beneath the weight of the priest's grief, seeking sanity in who he truly was outside this nightmare. His face fell into his hands and his tears raced as the floodgates opened. Never had Imhotep grieved like this. Never had he found the brink of letting his humanity go. And maybe he would have, if Evy's offer of help did not nestle in the back of his mind as a quiet little reminder of dim hope that someone cared. But he was close. Ardeth had to get out of this dream. It was too real._

Jarring awake, he sat up and coughed at the heaviness over him. Tears were already falling without his leave to do so. The emotions were so strong, so painfully vivid that it made him nearly sick with despair. And it made him angry.

Sitting up in the sand, alone with the night and his thoughts, Ardeth mimicked the priest and rested his face in his hands. He wept with emotions that did not even belong to him, ghosts of the past swirling through him as if it was his life that had just been devastated. Imhotep did not deserve hope. He was the enemy, the murderer of many, the exterminator of his people, the tormentor of this sick earth and recklessly evil in his deeds. He didn't deserve Ardeth's pity, but to feel all hope ripped away in a matter of mere moments by the reading of a letter, to experience it firsthand was frightening.

Only once had Ardeth felt that way himself and in that moment he had wished the same on Imhotep. Seeing his people strung up, dead and gone without hope of continuing on had devastated Ardeth, who would have led the Med-Jai and been their chief. All those innocent people, his responsibility taken by the madness of a single evil force. He had hated Imhotep like no other being in that moment and would have caused the priest the same level of devastation if he had been given the means. It still hurt, fresh and terrible, now that he thought upon it again.

But now the urge to cause such pain on another had faded. He knew that reveling in Imhotep's desolation would not bring satisfaction, but hurt that another being would feel so hopeless. Imhotep deserved death for his terrible crimes, but that level of pain…Ardeth wasn't sure he could condemn any man to feel that way after living it through the priest's eyes and seeing for himself that it brought no joy. How could he fight this man relentlessly and feel this compassion?

Bay curled his long fingers around the sand beneath him until the little pieces of grit caused him irritation. Standing and sweeping the desert with wet, furious eyes Ardeth threw the sand and shouted into the quiet, echoing the question his heart asked every time one of these dreams stripped away at his resolve, 

"_WHY DO YOU REVEAL THIS TO ME!?"_

Naturally there was no reply but the pain in his chest and his own sardonic judgment of himself and what he was becoming. Why was it so difficult to find himself in this place? Bay looked up onto the border of Imhotep's magic that he had fallen near when exiting his stolen car, so bright and beautiful. Clear tendrils of blue energy pulsated into the sky at unspeakable depths and illuminated the desert for miles. Ardeth watched the electrical sparks dance with heavy breathing and a heavy heart. On the other side of his link to Imhotep he could sense the priest also in a state of turmoil, enraged that his most painful moment had been seen by Ardeth's eyes. He remained aloof and unwilling to allow the Med-Jai to view his thoughts, but Ardeth couldn't miss the underlying shock and relived anguish.

"It is not for want of this," he whispered, dropping his vision to the ground and kicking sand towards the car. Ardeth tiredly wandered to the hood and sat back against it, letting his mind rest from the onslaught of emotion. He had to be careful now, to not allow Imhotep to sense his position and know he was coming. The unspeakable pain of this dream had taken the priest's attention from wondering where Ardeth was, but now that the storm was ending he had to shield his thoughts from revealing too much.

So he buried his appreciation of the fair light and covered his eyes from it to gather his bearings. Wiping a remnant of tears from his cheeks, Ardeth closed the door to his thoughts from the priest and called into memory the flash of knowledge that would see him past the barrier. The spell that would allow him through Imhotep's fence. He would use anger to push away his doubts. His destiny remained.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Woohoo! 200 reviews!! Mommints was lucky 200, Lula was lucky 100! Thanks guys! You're all awesome!

**To Reviewers**:

**Lula** – Thanks for the review! As for Immy, well, the life exchange between he and Ardeth does seem to be having a bit of an effect on the evil one, eh? But him just doesn't know what to do with himself. :-D I'm glad you're enjoying and I hope you feel better.

**Mommints** – You could do as my uncle did at work when he was playing his game—supervisor comes in, turn off monitor. ;-) Thank you, my friend, for stopping by and reading. I'm happy you liked it! And yes, I always ask that my readers trust me. Muahahahaha! ;-) I look forward to reading what you come up with on expanding that snippet I read the other day by your friend. :-)

**Marcher** – Thank you for the nice compliments! That part with Evy and Immy was one I was worried about in terms of people throwing things at me, so it's so nice to hear about it in positive ways. ;-) And yes…to see Ardeth angry. *drool* Glad you enjoyed that frying pan segment so many chapters ago. :-D I thought it would be cute to throw them back in again for hahas. :-D And anyway, I'm glad you weren't irked on that review. I didn't think you would be, but I always like to make sure I'm not being a jerk to people. Lol. :-D

**Zarah** – First off let me say, DON'T let anyone's negativity get in the way of your creativity! :-O :-D There's always gonna be those people that can't handle diversity and well, that's okay for them. Just don't let it bother you. Remember its nothing personal against you or your story…some people just can't appreciate a good story if the pairing is not to their liking. The most important thing is that you write for your enjoyment. That said, thanks for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying this…yes, there is an evil shortage of Ardeth/Evy stories out there! So let us populate ff.net with them! Muahaha! ;-D

**Jessie C** – Thanks as always! Good luck with your new story! :-D

**Serena** – Welcome back! I'm glad you're still around. :-) Thanks for dropping me the review, your compliments mean a bunch, you're very kind to say that! :-O :-D I'm glad you're enjoying and can only hope you continue to. :-)

**Deana** – Heck yeah! I'd be pulling Ardeth in that closet in a heartbeat. ;-) Now there is a nice thought. Maybe I'll have to issue that as a challenge on my site, writing about Ardeth in a closet with a girl. :-D Thanks, my friend!

**Marxbros** – As always, thank you much for your reviews, for following this story and your compliments/suggestions! Means a lot! You're very kind to say that about what I wrote. :-O My most worried part gets such a high compliment! Thanks, my friend! :-) I'm gratified to hear I made it good. I look forward to more **Hereafter**!! Glad you updated, but fic monster is still hungry over here. ;-) But I guess time promotes the great quality of it, huh? :-) Thanks!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks for continuing to read this! :-D It means a bunch to have people read regularly and enjoy. I hope **Unfortunate Amulet** is coming along well! I'm very interested to see what will happen to Evy! :-D Thanks again!


	30. Better Late Than Dead

**Speak Softly**  
Better Late Than Dead

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The days had passed quickly, yet not quick enough to see him closer to Evelyn. Before Ardeth lay a long stretch of road and behind much the same, the path ahead lit only by the glow of headlights. The chill was already seeping into his extremities, bleeding through the window to his left and covering him like a blanket. In the black he did not see the eyes that strained to view him from the rearview mirror. But he felt them. "How long until we reach the castle?" he asked in a gruff, no-nonsense tone, living the role of Priest of Osiris.

The driver was a younger man of not more than twenty who had sized Ardeth up from head to toe at the pick-up station he had been conveyed to. Ardeth had made no pretense of offense, but merely acted as if he cared not. But he had watched the driver carefully. In front he exhaled and answered, "You see that faint glow up ahead? Barely there? That's it. Can't be more than ten minutes now."

Ardeth crossed his arms, cuddling himself in the cold, and tried to relax his tense muscles. Nashean had told him to continue with the guise Priest of Osiris and had even given him an officially sealed document permitting his passage to the castle. It seemed so easy, so terribly easy. But the real fun would come when it was time to break in. Nashean had also told him from the limo on the choices would fall to him, for there were no contacts hidden in Imhotep's London home.

He shifted in his seat and wondered what Evelyn was doing. She lived still, he could sense through Imhotep's random thoughts. Necromancer's threat had not been carried out. This was his focus and what drove him. Imhotep would be defeated in time, but Evelyn would be saved now. The things his former friend said seemed to never mean exactly what the obvious spoke, but there also seemed to be an element of truth and Ardeth would take no chances to find out what exactly the threat over Evelyn meant.

He was kind to her, soft and patient. In some ways this frightened Ardeth more than if he were the same monster as before. The dreams still troubled him when he slept so that he scarcely wanted to rest at all. Imhotep's pain troubled him, everything about his life. Each dream he felt the human man inside the priest die a little more under the influence of the Hom-Dai. All this for the love of a woman. Not greed, not power. Love.

The Med-Jai ran the back of his finger down the pane of glass, thinking of Evelyn, her softness and her kindness. A well of feeling came over him with thoughts of her, feelings he had never considered would be for her if ever they graced him. What if Imhotep had been a human king, born to Egypt and given the throne without conquering it? What if he had chosen Evelyn as Seti had chosen Ancksunamun? Would he kill to save her from that kind of life?

What if the curse on Imhotep could be undone?

The light around them slowly increased until it could be clearly seen where it came from. The castle ahead grew in size as they closed in and Ardeth inhaled, preparing himself for whatever would come. Would these people know Med-Jai tattoos for what they were? He drew his hood up around him.

They came to a large gate to the inner courtyard and beyond he could see the castle standing, beckoning him with thoughts of blood, battle and his lover-friend. When the car stopped at a guardhouse Ardeth sat straight and gripped the dagger in his robe. The driver rolled his window down. "We received no notification that anyone was coming," a stern-faced, British-accented guard with gray hair stated flatly.

"I tried to call, but the operator said it wouldn't go through," the driver replied quick enough. This alarmed Ardeth. No call had been attempted that he had been aware of, nor had any of the crew at the pick-up station said anything of the sort. This man was lying, but for what purpose? Almost as if he knew… "Here. This priest has clearance from Lord Nashean." Ardeth's papers were handed through.

After a look-through the guard glanced into the back, but said nothing. It was cold and stark; a lifeless job that probably bred little motivation when it came to so clean an entry. Ardeth had proof signed by Nashean and that was good enough. So the gate opened and they were allowed into the courtyard.

On either side snow covered what could have been grass and the road was slick. In the center they came upon a shut down fountain with snow spilling over the edges and beyond was the castle. He could see jackals shifting in the shadows, shaking off drifting flakes of snow and clawing at each other as they stood watch over Imhotep's home. This was where Ardeth expected to be dropped off, but his driver turned right, away from the main entrance. Ardeth tensed and shifted hot fingers over the blade. "Where are you taking me?" he asked with a deliberate edge.

"To the back." No explanation of why.

Ardeth took the dagger from his robe. "Are all official visitors taken to the back, rather than the front?" He gripped the seat in front of him as the car slid a little, but the driver maintained control.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to alarm. No, most officials are sent to the front." Again there was no explanation.

When they reached the end of the castle they turned down a side road flanked by trees and shadow. This place was not illuminated quite as carefully as the front and as far as he could tell, there were no jackals or human guards. Ardeth moved to the edge of his seat with his blade firm in his grip. "Then why are you taking me to the back?" There was no reply to his question.

Ardeth shoved his hands up front and pressed the dagger to his driver's throat. The vehicle slowed to a stop. "I was told to drop you off at the rear," the driver said quickly, clearly startled and annoyed. "You _are_ one of Lady Hess's men, aren't you?"

"And if I am?" the Med-Jai retorted.

The driver exhaled lengthily. "Look, it's none of my business what the Lady does after hours. I was told to watch for a priest in the next few days and bring him here 'on business' and by the looks of you so-called priests, I think I know what sort of business she's in for. You aren't the first take-out ordered in, you know. A man would have to be bloody stupid not to understand what she imported you for and well, you look the part right enough. In any case, I'm not gonna tell the king, if that's what you're worried about. Like I said, it's none of my business so put your knife away. You're supposed to go in through the back door in case Pharaoh's up and about."

So someone was expected. This was a chance to get into the palace without the dangers involved in breaking in and entering. "And the guards in the back, they will let me in?"

"Don't rightly know," the driver replied, straightening his collar when Ardeth pulled the dagger away. "I thought you'd be told what to say. I'm sure if I understand what you're here for, those guards might. All of the Lady's men are delivered out back." The car started moving again and Ardeth leaned back, keeping his eyes peeled and his weapon ready. "Boy, you sure are a dangerous one, aren't you? Lady Hess'll adore that, I'm sure. She looks wild enough in those frigid blues."

To that Ardeth said nothing and stayed silent during the short trip out back. During his lifetime he had worn a few disguises. He had played a beggar in Alexandria once while seeking out a desert raider that had killed the Med-Jai Commander of the Fourth Tribe, had donned the role of merchant a few times to barter for supplies in Cairo and even baited some black-market slavers by pretending to be in the market to sell some of his fellow tribesmen. Sajul and Arya had helped him, as well as a few of the other Med-Jai young men and women, freeing close to a dozen assorted children, two of which had been kidnapped from his own tribe while wandering too far away from adult supervision.

In all his experience with fakery Ardeth had never pretended to be a pleasure consort. Obviously he knew their primary function, but his memory called up the vision of a woman who had approached him in Alexandria. She had been explicit in her attentions, offering even to lower the price because he was, at the time, a beggar with very little money and as she put it, 'worth a discount'. Her eyes had explored him lengthily and her body remained close to his, hands on his shoulders and obvious intent written in her eyes. Ardeth had never seen a male prostitute and had no idea if they acted the same.

He thought also of his cousin Kaiden and knew a man need not be one to behave that way. The car stopped and he saw the guards back here were human. The driver gazed at him through the rearview mirror with amusement written in his eyes. "Let me know how she likes that knife of yours," he snickered and Ardeth narrowed his brows. "Right, right. Sorry."

The Med-Jai exhaled, opened the door and tried to embrace his new role. He had, of course, no idea how long he was going to have to pretend in order to maintain secrecy. Until they left him alone he would have no opportunity to seek Evelyn without exposing himself for what he truly was. The longer he remained disguised, the longer it would be until guards swarmed after him.

The guards at the back entrance eyed him warily as he ascended the stairs and one went so far as to open his mouth until his partner said, "He's one of those dandies the Lady orders. Let him through." They didn't seem entirely impressed with him, but opened the door without further comment.

Ardeth tilted his chin up, painted a condescending little smile on his mouth and passed through, breathing, "Thank you, gentlemen. I do so enjoy my work, exhausting as it may be. It could be worse. I could be standing out in the cold." He grinned when the door slammed shut behind him.

Not bothering with the snow on him, Ardeth looked around at his surroundings. It was softly decorated in here with tones of beige, maroon and gold. Such a warm contrast to Imhotep's Egyptian palace. It was welcoming. Two guards on either side of the door stood and watched him, but offered no inclination to escort him to Lady Hess. He would have to find her himself.

But, of course, he had no intention of doing that. Daring to stretch out a seeking sweep through their bond Ardeth discovered that Imhotep was asleep and dreaming. Of what he could not tell. It was sad, but much of his return had been this way. Would Evelyn be curled up beside him? The thought made his blood run cold.__

~~~~~~~

_She was touching him tenderly, touching him through her love of his enemy. They never saw him for who he truly was and in this way Imhotep walked the path of Ardeth Bay._

_He opened his heavy lids and groaned at the pain he was in. The pain that Ardeth had endured without the escape of death. Oh, how Imhotep wanted death now, even as his enemy had wanted it. He wanted this dream to die and take with it all the rest that would follow. Only once had he been in an anguish that likened to this and even then he had been able to at least move. He could well remember his return from the house of __Mentuemhat__._

_Thoughts of that found bitter residence within the High Priest of the Dead. __Near the Oasis of Kharijah was the settlement of the noble Mentuemhat, who had a thing Seti wanted. So Imhotep had gone to get that item, that he could win his king's approval and more. This noble had dared the anger of Osiris by setting his guards upon the High Priest and while he had escaped that night with his life and his bounty, Imhotep had not been left without injury. He had traveled the desert alone for the longest time, caught between life and death, so he knew well the want of escape that coursed through Ardeth at every flinch._

_"He tied you into his life force, meaning you won't die until he allows it," she was saying softly, bitterly as she spoke of things he had done and would do. Imhotep opened his eyes to look at her and saw the fear written in her eyes. He found himself angry because he knew had someone else done this to her, he would have punished them. He was not without care for her, after all. But it was he himself that had caused this pain on her face and yet he would let it continue without punishing the guilty. Living through Ardeth Bay was showing him things he did not want to see about himself. "I…I wish things could be different for you."_

_Despite the pain he moved his fingers, wishing he could touch her. Wishing he could find comfort from this understanding, but she denied him. The words came from his lips unbidden as they always did. They were Bay's, but somehow his even still, somewhere within that terrible heart of his. "I wish things could be different for _you_." Nefertiri looked away from him and he wondered then why her eyes spoke of guilt. She was blameless. He moved his fingers again, but this time to impart comfort for what he could and for who he was._

_Her sigh was soft and sweet to him, but the name on her lips was not his. "Oh, Ardeth."_

_"Do not worry, Evelyn." His voice trembled with his great pain, spilling forth the name he did not care to call her with. It reminded him that she was not entirely the same person who had cursed him. Imhotep let out a long, tired exhale and wondered to whom it belonged._

_Tears again brimmed her dark eyes as she looked on his suffering with that same flash of self-reproach from before. But what she spoke stripped at his compassion and brought him to wait for words of betrayal. "How can I not worry? He could very well let you live and…and do terrible things. He's…" Her hand found his brow again. "I'm sorry. I'm not making you feel better."_

_Bay sighed and savored her touch as he spoke truthfully. "I am not a child, Evelyn. You don't have to make me feel better. Perhaps he will have mercy this time." Bay didn't believe that for one moment, but even as he assured her he was not a child, he tried to comfort the woman before him with a suggestion he saw as an impossibility._

_Nefertiri shook her head and the venom within her tone was as tangible as a slap. "All he cares about is himself!" Her fingers wiped at the water dripping down her cheeks and she managed to pull herself together as her lover gave her time. Straightening her hair, Nefertiri leaned back in her seat and nodded half-heartedly. "I'm sorry. You're right. Maybe he will."_

_Her blatant hatred, which she concealed from _him_, gave him anger. He called to mind all the mercies he had given her in his apparent 'selfishness', all those nights he would have enjoyed a warm body yet stayed from her for her sake, the things he allowed her to say and do, the punishments she so easily evaded and he felt angry that she would hate him so, no matter how hard he tried. And even more so that he would curse his life for the wrongs he committed that were unforgiven. He was Pharaoh, after all. What should he loathe about his life? He had been stripped of much, his parents, his lover, his eternity. The king in him called him back to that, for the bitterness he felt could not be drowned out._

_Bay closed his eyes, too tired to offer any more words of wisdom to his friend. And Nefertiri kept touching him, soothing the king's pain and his anger without his wanting it, until finally sleep found her. Bay looked when she stopped touching and saw her eyes closed, her face set and her breath coming regular. He worried for her and for himself, but found peace in watching her sleep. The blessing greeted and soaked up her life like a white cloth over dark wine._

_But their privacy would be intruded upon, as it had been before in the Field of the Med-Jai. Bay swallowed in anticipation as the tent flap opened, closed his eyes to feign sleep and waited to see what he could learn from his enemy. Time passed as Imhotep waited, wondering if when he heard the other's voice, if it would belong to his enemy or to himself. He could feel those eyes on him, hear the whisper of his breath and could well imagine the turmoil within._

_His answer came with an intake of breath. "I wish to speak with you." Bay's voice awakening his queen—his voice with Imhotep's uncertain softness. Would those dark eyes tell him that Ardeth Bay had wandered into this self-same dream? Would Bay know who he was, or would he be as unaware as everyone else?_

_They left him and replaced their presense with two men carrying posts for him to be tied to. Outside the tent he could hear the voice of his wife asking in worried tones, "What are you going to do to him?" Eager, she was, to assume the worst. For reasons unknown to him, it hurt._

The dream offered no more insight than that, no vision of Ardeth Bay clothed in his raiment. It ended and Imhotep awakened swiftly, sitting up in his bed to be greeted by soft candles and sweat. The king looked down at his attire and frowned, realizing he had collapsed on the bed and fallen asleep without disrobing. Unnerved by the dream and seeking for a distraction from the impending thoughts of life, love and other mysteries, Imhotep got up from the silky bed and amidst pulling his heavy robe off, made his way nearer to where his queen was. He was both angry with her and pitying, and cursed the dream and its foolish lessons. This would _not_ rule him.

He lounged back against a comfortable chair in their lavish, large bedroom and watched his wife as she gazed at herself in an ornate mirror set upon a vanity of nothing less than gold—his gift to her. Her satin dress clung to her in personal ways, allowing him a soft insight into the shape of her body that was endearing in a way that her nudity was not. He had never been allowed Ancksunamun as a wife. Imhotep thought it strange that the first woman he would wed would be Nefertiri. Even when she was his coveted student and his thoughts occasionally entertained what it would be like to teach the young princess more than religion he had not thought of marriage to her. It had never even once occurred to him that had he taken her, he might have impregnated her. A dark smile found his lips. What would Seti have done about such a thing? Rameses would have become his enemy, he knew, for his want of his sister had been great.

But now she was _his_ to have at will and perhaps even the fact that she was another woman entirely made him feel drawn into this opportunity. Her submission to want had been pleasurable, more so than he had thought it would be and in ways he had not counted on. He found that he did, in fact, care for her state of being. And he wanted her to care for his.

The High Priest of Osiris was no fool. She did not love him, but even still she did allow him in. And he no longer wanted to mistreat her, finding that when he did behave properly towards his queen, it made him think of the priest he had been a long time ago. Not without fault, certainly, but a step closer to what only had begun to touch him this century. Dare he call it hopeful? Imhotep closed his eyes and tried to push it away. He did not deserve hope.

The king narrowed his brow and tightened his fists with that small realization. _Curse Ardeth Bay and all that is his!_ he thought in near-despair, but his eyes fell upon Nefertiri's shapely form once more and brought calm. Yet it did not keep back the foreboding Imhotep felt welling within him. Ardeth Bay had concealed his thoughts from being sifted through for days to a degree Imhotep could not penetrate. He was trying _something_, but what that was he did not know. It made him feel helpless.

_I should not have set him free or trusted he would heed wisdom. I should have… _The priest closed his eyes again, pushing sudden images of the Hom-Dai towards that dark place in his mind he rarely let his consciousness visit. The curse, it was almost as enveloping as loving Ancksunamun had been. Visiting the early horror of having it performed on him was like walking through his worst nightmare and now that Ardeth's knowing filled him he could no longer hide from the pain in emptiness. No, he should _not_ perform the Hom-Dai on another being. He was at least human enough to realize that.

"What's wrong?" called his wife softly, jarring him away from the blackness and the king inhaled, letting his unconsciously clenched hands relax. Two pools of darkness fixed on him through the mirror's gift of perfect reflection. Wary concern shadowed her pretty face as she spoke. "That look on your face, what does it mean?"

Imhotep crossed his arms and wandered what little of her front he could see in the mirror with foolish desire surfacing in him. "Nothing, Nefertiri. Do not trouble yourself to wonder."

His queen turned in her chair and regarded him with those soulful eyes of hers, eyes filled with uncertainty. Fear he caused her, even now he had proven himself to be trusted with her rights. _By all the gods, why is this so difficult for me!? Why do I let her affect me so? _he asked himself amidst her incessant quest for knowledge. "Have I done something wrong?" That, he thought, was terribly observant of her to realize.__

"Will you not hold your tongue?" he snapped a little too harshly, then exhaled at his own lack of control. She looked down then. Demeaned—that is how he would term that expression. "I am sorry, Nefertiri. The day has been long and I do not feel well. Please do not question me so." Ardeth Bay was not his only concern and Celestine's news washed over him again, adding to his increased agitation. Trouble was brewing, trouble in Canada. He was losing his control overseas and it more than frustrated him. He could not be everywhere at once, nor did he have any desire to travel west.

She stood up, much to his displeasure, and crossed the floor on soft feet to take a chair beside him. His queen had a talent for disobedience at the exact moment he would have pleaded the gods for her to listen. "You've been looking at me like that since our wedding night. Am I doing something wrong? I _do_ want this to work, Imhotep, but it won't if you hide your anger with me until you lose control. If you want to call me wife these sudden outbursts and slaps just cannot continue. I'll always be your slave and nothing more if you can't talk to me." He opened his mouth, but she continued with a suspicious edge to her tone. "Or is that it? You've tried to treat me as a wife, but find you would rather it be the other way?"

Imhotep knit his brow and sat up with a stern expression, brought to the edge of anger again. But he was not sure with whom he was angrier. Her or himself. "Why must you always assume the worst of me?" Nefertiri looked away from his frustration and he admitted to himself that he already understood. He was wronging her again. _Because I have always given you the worst of me. Gods, was I always this troubled inside?_

The king sat back in his chair again and stretched his fingers before his face. Not the hands of a man anymore. He would never have treated Ancksunamun this way. Or would he if she pushed him? The curse made him wonder suddenly, but he let it go. It was something he would never have to know of himself. "You did nothing wrong, Nefertiri. In truth I have not felt so still inside in more than three millennia. And do you know what gave me the most peace, my queen?"

"Getting me to obey for once?" the queen replied in a wry manner that suggested both jest and simple truth. How uncertain she was, how used to being no more than a plaything for him. Did he want to change that?

He shook his head and decided to let her be something else for a time. To see what this newfound understanding would win him. "No. The memories we shared after. When I held you and we spoke of ancient times. It was so peaceful and so…" But Imhotep balked at where his emotions were leading him. He was sharing too much, allowing her in and he couldn't do that, couldn't let her see what was inside. "These things are pointless to speak of."

Not one to leave things be as they should, she questioned him further, as was typical of her. It always had been, even in the past, that she would push, push, push until she got her way. Nefertiri dared to take his hand by impulse and he closed his eyes, pulling it back. Her sigh hit his ears softly. "It didn't seem so pointless when we were talking. Can you see me as no more than your property?"

The king gave her a hard stare at that, but the tide within slowed before he could snap at her for her pestering. Imhotep looked away from her testily and back into the mirror to escape the priest that called him to come back to his senses. And even still he would not leave it be, would not let her believe what she would, good or ill. "I was thinking of when I received the Hom-Dai," he offered flatly and listened with intense interest to the inhale she drew. He imagined that body in motion, taking the breath he no longer required.

He revealed that to her and still it was not enough to satiate her need to pry. She spoke again and his fingers curled around the edge of the chair arms. "What was it like?" It was a question asked in the lowest of tones, a whisper barely there because she knew to ask him could be dangerous. Could have been dangerous, but was no longer, perhaps.

Imhotep shook his head with firm intent. That was much too far into his heart to allow anyone. "No. It is not for you to know. Even were I able to put words to such a horror I would not tell you." This line of conversation was taking her closer to places he wanted no one to know, including himself. Uncomfortably, he stood up from his chair and began for the bed again without another word, praying she would come, or leave, or that sleep would take him without dreams of Ardeth Bay.

Sinking into the forever softness Imhotep fixed his wife with a gentle gaze and swept the link to his enemy over again, again unable to learn anything but that Bay was relaxed, cool and anticipating something. _Are you at the border, Ardeth Bay? Have you killed Lord Nashean for his secrets of where we are?_ That cold place inside Imhotep wished it so. Of course he wanted his enemy to heed wisdom and stay away—now more than ever for the sake of mercy. But a split second choice back in Egypt had given Bay the robe he used to enter the Temple of Osiris, the very robe he may use to enter the palace and other places. And that choice had come from the secret hope inside that the Med-Jai would not give up, would not be able to allow Nefertiri to stay in the control of her king and would not survive as a result. No doubt Bay had thought him a fool to give him such a gift, but it was not without intent.

He had wanted Bay to return at first, to disobey and die. Before the poison had hit him hard, before the light had touched his soul. He had given his enemy the very means to disobey him and now that he was, Imhotep cursed his decision and wanted for a peaceful solution. If he killed Bay it would hurt Nefertiri and drive her from him. It was too late, however, and Bay would not see to reason as his cold self had so hoped. Something was going to happen.

But that was neither here nor now. Ardeth Bay would do well to leave Egypt, let alone penetrate this very castle and kidnap his queen. So he turned his attention back on her, watching as she straightened her dress gently. "Are you going back to sleep, Imhotep?" she asked him and he nodded. Her brow narrowed, but she said nothing in reply to his weariness. Only acceptance of what she could not understand touched her and he wondered idly what she would say were he to open himself further and tell her of his dreams. But fate decided against it. "I'm going for a swim in the bathhouse, then. Try to relax."

Imhotep nodded and propped himself up on his elbows, motioning her over with the wiggle of his fingers. His beautiful queen looked reluctant, but willing as she obeyed, sat down beside him and accepted the kiss he offered. The lingering thought of that would surely relax him and entice him in her absence filled his mind, so he traveled to her jasmine scented hair, inhaled the fragrance and whispered a request that he hoped she would carry out. "When you are done, will you return here to sleep?" She pulled away and he gave her unrepentant smile. Her answer furthered the troubles on his mind.

"I can do that." Nefertiri drew her chin up and pushed his shoulders down until the pillow taunted his eyes nearly to closing with a temporary promise of relief from bothered thoughts. "Think about what I said. About talking to me instead of…"

The moment would be ruined by such talk of terrible things as lack of control, so Imhotep stopped her with fingers to her lips, tempted to ask her to remain now instead of returning later. "There is no need to think, Nefertiri. I will try harder for you."

~~~~~~~

Her candles burned low, leaving the High Priestess of Osiris bathed in the splendor of the dim lighting in her office. Celestine gazed at the flames upon the mantle, doubled with the backdrop of a mirror behind. So beautiful, so fair and bright. He looked particularly handsome in that lighting. The priestess pursed her lips and seethed inside at the marriage, at the king's new and strange behavior and those cursed little looks he gave his play toy.

She stared at two telegrams on her large, dark desk with a pensive expression. The first was a note from her uncle, asking if she had gained any leeway in seducing their king. When the general learned of her loss to Nefertiri he was going to be very upset. It was truly ironic, the mission, the man and the fate that had woven him into her life. Almost as if he were as chosen as he believed.

That sweet quirk of fate had birthed her in Alexandria, the exact right place and time for her to live. For her family and her birthplace would offer her two people, two rare gems that would forever change her life. Meela Pasha was the daughter of a rich Egyptian merchant and would attend the same class as little Miss Celestine, becoming a close childhood friend who would travel with her to Germany to visit her uncle Rudolf Hess, born of the same country. And this man worked closely with the second person to capture her heart—none other than Adolph Hitler, who would become one of her homeland's most brilliant politicians. Hitler had stunned her with his charisma and blue eyes, but what had drawn her into his bed was his incredible vision. At first during the visit it had not been apparent that Meela would help him, but after a series of dreams the door seemed to open.

Imhotep, the powerful, who would do anything for Ancksunamun—this ancient princess Meela was _certain_ related to her somehow. At times she thought she _was_ this princess, even, and her stories were so powerful and vivid that Celestine's newly acquired lover became intrigued by the stories related to him during their secret trysts. And with a little investigation he discovered there was more to these tales than simple imagination. This priest had made an appearance in the early '20's, almost forgotten but not quite. If it were true, if this being did exist and could be brought to consciousness, it could change history forever. Control within control and an all-powerful machine to purification and order Hitler had seen at his fingertips. It fueled his belief that he was chosen for greatness, for how could he not if fate so tossed him this chance? So he gave in to Meela's whims, murdered a desert warrior she felt threatened by and when he became Chancellor in 1933, he funded a little dig in Egypt that would win him the opportunity of a lifetime.

But a link in the chain had not only been broken, but replaced with someone that would not fall correctly into their plans. Celestine could not manipulate Nefertiri and through her manipulate the king. Her lover's plans of taking control of Imhotep were fading away, dying with the people the king conquered. The terror was slowing, the chaos had spun enough opportunity for the Egyptian to seize the world but now he meant to rule it himself, or if he were aided, it would be by that toy. Adolph was going to be livid with this new development. Celestine smiled bitterly and glared up at the candles again.

But there was a chance at redemption at least. The second telegram had come only a few days ago with the promise that perhaps Celestine's chance had come after all. A letter from Lord Nashean addressed to her and written in such a way that only she would know what message it told. A dark smile spread across her red lips. Ardeth Bay was even now on his way here to rescue his lover from the terrible king. It was almost too good to be true. Yet too true to reward her patience with disappointment. A knock echoed through her office and the priestess sat up, calling, "Enter." One lone guard came in with a smile to mirror her own ill wishes. "Rafe," she greeted, allowing the word to roll off her tongue sensually. "What may I do for you?"

The guard leered down at the leg she exposed through the flimsy opening of her robe, but maintained grace enough to give her a report without missing a beat. "We got ourselves a visitor. Ardeth Bay has just entered the castle as you requested. Shall we arrest him?"

Celestine considered this. If she moved too quickly the surprise would be spoiled. If she waited too long Ardeth Bay could very well succeed in rescuing Princess Nefertiri. "I want you to find and follow him," she said after a moment of intense thought. "Wait until he finds the queen and goes to her. I want to test her, you see. Wait until she does something to betray our king, then arrest them _both_."

"And if she doesn't betray the king?"

Celestine frowned on that thought, but conceded it was possible. "Only when you have determined she will not may you arrest Ardeth Bay. And Rafe?"

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Be brutal with them." Rafe grinned in reply.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Nashean, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania, Reyhanen and Celestine (and a few dead/less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: According to the TMR book, Meela's last name is Pasha…I can't believe I missed it last time I read it. Anyway, good thing to know, eh? :-D

**To Reviewers**:

**Mommints** – Yes, stories like Hereafter and yours are quite inspiring to me as well, and I'm glad you've gotten inspired! :-) Love to see more **Heros**! Thanks for the review, my friend! Write write write! ;-) :-D

**Wildcardgal** – Thanks for the compliments! I'm glad you're reading and enjoying what you see. :-) Always nice to get a head's up and I appreciate it. :-D

**Zarah** – Ardeth/Evy scene coming up it looks like, huh? ;-) Next chapter! :-D Thanks a bunch!

**Deana** – LOL! If you feel bad for Immy I must have done something reasonably okay, eh? ;-) Thanks! I'm glad you're liking this and following it. Means a lot!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks! How is yours coming along??? :-)

**Marcher** – Thanks for compliments here and email…I appreciate the time you took to let me know your thoughts. :-) It's much appreciated that friends and strangers can give of their time to read and let me know how I'm doing on the main characters and originals like Sania. :-) Thankie much!

**Marxbros** – Actually you came in at 203. :-O :-D Thanks a bunch! I know, got a little violent with Anck, but I wanted to show that bad things can happen to them, things that they don't necessarily deserve and to make the readers feel bad for our dear Immy. ;-) :-) Plus to show that there are bigger fish than Imhotep. I'm happy to hear people enjoy my meshing…:-O Always try not to make the parts not too confusing. :-) And there will definitely be more for Jonny and Ricky before the end in 5 chapters. :-D Thanks muchly, my friend! Can't wait to see more Hereafter, but it's sad that it's almost done! *sniff*

**Lula** – Hehehe, glad you worked around the ff.net trouble you had and could read. :-) It means a bunch to have readers like you, ya know! As for Ardeth, yes, poor Ardeth…and he's heading for more trouble it looks like, huh? Oye! Like I told Dee, I can't not hurt him at some point. ;-) Muahahaha. Thanks! 


	31. Crimes of Passion

**Speak Softly**  
Crimes of Passion

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

The shadows hid him from her view as she walked alone down the warm hallways of this grand home. Seeing her again was like life being breathed back into his spirit. She looked beautiful, as regal as any queen that had ever walked. Grace lulled Imhotep back into sleep and grace had brought Evelyn into the hall just as he turned down it. Ardeth kept a good pace behind her, following silent and slow, stealthily in his way for mischief partly and also that he was content just to see her again. Friend or lover, he loved this woman very deeply and seeing her again made him feel hopeful for this world.

He looked at her soft, pretty dress and lingered on the thought of touching her again, of being with her again. Funny Evelyn, soft Evelyn, kind and stubborn like he firmly asserted he was _not_ to his friends and family. No, there was no denying what his heart waited on, but he would step aside if she loved O'Connell. Ardeth resisted touching and followed, knowing his skill would keep her from ever knowing he were there if he so chose.

The Med-Jai drew the black hood back slightly and threw a glance over his shoulder to be sure they were truly alone. Satisfied they were, he turned back to Evy with a quieted soul. After all his pain and sadness, to meet such love and want in his own heart surprised him, but was welcome. He was strong in so many ways, but beginning with her he saw those places where he was not. She had always listened to him with understanding and without judgment. Her past comforts solidified his want of now.

He was in grave danger by doing this, he knew, following her around the most dangerous place on earth for him to be in. If Imhotep awakened he had no doubt that blessing or not, the priest would exact revenge. Yet he could not force himself to spirit her away just yet. He enjoyed his secret.

Evelyn stopped walking. Gathering up her delicate, silky skirt, she wrapped her hand around the handle of a large door and opened it. Quickly Ardeth moved behind her, so close…too close to maintain his secrecy, but she gave no notice of him at all. Fortune was on his side. She entered the dim room and before the door could shut he grabbed it, slipping in and to the shadows. It was a bathhouse, richly decorated with pillars of alabaster and a large pool in the back of the room, filtered and refilled by three waterfalls coming from the wall, and adorned by the petals of dark roses. The only light came from large, white candles scattered about, leaving many dark places in the rich room and the atmosphere gave him notions he knew he should not entertain at time so needful of haste. And there was O'Connell, too, that warned him away. For her love of himself he knew he would die and for her love of another he would fight that she gain what gave her joy. This was not betrayal, not if she loved Rick truly.

Ardeth took shelter behind one of the great pillars and watched as she made her way to a large mirror across the room. He could now see her face reflected back, radiant with the life that made his senses tingle. He could see it in others, but none affected him like this. She seemed so content, yet the sadness buried beneath those eyes could not escape his vision. Cascades of darkness fell down onto her shoulders as she unpinned her hair and brushed her fingers through it. Tender thoughts of doing that task for her came to mind and stirred his spirit.

She watched herself in the great mirror, making sure every strand of hair was in place, every inch of her pale skin flawless. He would have truthfully assured her it was, but for the calm enjoyment he took from merely watching. But things would escalate soon beyond what he felt comfortable viewing without his presense being known. Instantly he moved, feeling that to intrude upon her undressing would be to dishonor the friendship between them. Evy tucked her hair over her shoulder and reached behind her, unzipping her dress, then froze. Her lined eyes were no longer upon herself, but on him. 

Whirling around, she backed away and hit a desk as he came from the shadows. "Who are you?" she demanded with wide, frightened eyes, holding her hands out as if it could prevent an attack.

"Have no fear, Evelyn," he told her softly, stepping from the shadows. When he threw down his hood Evy gasped with astonished eyes.

She lifted a hand to her lips and said nothing for a long moment, and he wondered if she were feeling the same emotions that ran through him now. Fear that this was not real, uncertainty of what the other wanted, need for proximity. He watched those eyes moisten, saw tears trespass onto her cheeks. Ardeth stretched out his hand and it seemed to awaken her senses again. She clasped it with hers and with the other arm, drew him into her embrace. He wrapped himself in her warmth, allowing it to enter his tired soul again. Could this be what his long lost Heaven had felt like? 

Enveloping her into his strong arms, Ardeth dropped his head to her shoulder and would have wept if he had the strength or will. This was like the tired soldier coming home, like a slave winning his freedom and more. After so much death and betrayal he realized just how powerful the love of a friend could be. Evelyn rubbed his back as she held him, her own head finding rest on his shoulder. The comfort drew forth a confession he had not even been prepared to make, but this was her way. During their friendship she had forged a knack for ferreting out his troubles, even in her silence without trying, and offering him consolation, whether he wanted her knowing him so well or not. And maybe that was why it was so easy to slip into deeper love after their moments together. It was a blessing, he saw now, not a shame to the supposedly impenetrable walls that guarded a warrior's heart. So he said it aloud and her hold tightened. "I failed."

The tone he used was honest, low and almost unbelieving. She wouldn't judge him, but he couldn't help but judge himself. He had failed her and the world by losing that Staff and trusting his heart rather than his head. He should never have walked into Necromancer's trap, should have killed him when he was freed of his bonds after his friend had cut him. He had failed to keep her from having to make such a terrible choice to marry Imhotep. But none of this mattered to her. "Shh," Evy soothed, petting and holding him. "Shh, Ardeth, don't you believe that for one moment." How could he not? Was he not supposed to save the world?

Ardeth would have stayed this way without ever leaving if time wasn't screaming at him from the other side of his mind. She knew it as well. "You can't stay," she whispered in a shaky voice that caused him to tighten his grasp. Her hands found his sides as she looked up into his face. "You can't stay."

Ardeth shook his head, sensing the slumbering king stir, but could not bring voice to the assurance that they had a few moments. His fingers traced her cheek. "I will not leave you or wait for O'Connell to rescue you. You are in danger and I cannot leave your life to chance." He could feel her life consuming him again and he wanted to lose himself in that, forgetting the world and allowing her to help him find balance again. "You don't deserve to give yourself away like this." 

Evy responded to his soft words with wet, wide eyes, but remained firm. "I'm all right. Imhotep will protect me. Please just go. Be safe for me. He'll kill you."

"No," he told her firmly, caressing her arms and shoulders where he could, trying to fight himself to stop what she may not want of him. The emptiness was ever consuming and her life force sweet. Ardeth hugged her again and shook his head. "Not this time, Evy. I understand you may wish to continue with Rick now that you know he lives and I will take you to him myself, but I cannot leave you here with Imhotep. I may die trying to save this world, but I will not allow myself to leave it without knowing you're safe. Please understand. This is who I am."

"I know." Her arms pulled his waist to hers, close and personal, so welcoming. "But, Ardeth, it's not safe. If I'm here he won't hunt you. Don't you see I want to save _you?_"

He understood it well, yet he could not obey her wants in this. She had been through more than he could tolerate seeing any loved one endure. "Let him hunt me."

"I made my choice!" she shot back angrily, but her glare did not have the effect she intended.

Ardeth gazed through a set expression. "And I have made mine."

Evelyn stared silently at him with hurt eyes that softened as his caress found her arms again. "How can you do this to me?" she whispered, hiding her face from him as she hugged into him. "This world _needs_ you to save it."

"And I need you to be all right." The Med-Jai stared over her shoulder, knowing it wasn't right to make such a choice. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was some small glimmer of hope somewhere, but for the life of him he could not see it. And he would throw it away to give her what she needed, to free her. Necromancer's message of her death rang through him and he knew if there was truth to that statement, it did not mean necessarily Necromancer would be the one to take it. He could not leave her to Imhotep's wrath if she incurred it so. "I will do my duty to this world, Evelyn, when the time comes. When I can. But I must first keep my promise to save you."

There was a moment of silence between them as they hugged in the candlelight, heedless to the dangers outside this room. Imhotep slept and Ardeth could not tear away this softness between them. Evy pulled back and touched his hair, her dark eyes traveling him over. "Look at you," she whispered. "How _did_ you get in here, anyway? You can't stay."

That last was half-hearted. Her walls were crumbling, her resistance fading, and for that he nearly hated himself. If life were easier for her here he should have let his heart die out in the cold of London or back in stormy Egypt, but for the threat on her life and the life she had to endure in marriage to a man she did not love. He could not let her go on in pain if so little as his life could save her. Evelyn remained silent, watching him look her over as she trembled in the soft light, one sleeve falling down her shoulder. Absently, he reached to pull it back up, but instead found his fingers toying with the fabric, neither pulling it up nor down. _Why do I wait? We must leave,_ he wondered, but did so even still. They deserved a moment of softness between them.__

Evelyn stilled and turned her head, hiding from his gaze as she had before and he wondered what it was she wanted of him. He did not have O'Connell's blue eyes or taste of wit. He was a battle-weary warrior who had lost his place in the world. He was not supposed to be here. And now she knew what could await her outside these walls. "Do you want to be with Rick?" he breathed, needing to know the answer before he let himself show her things she might not want of him. "Have I damaged our friendship with inappropriate feelings? I expect nothing of you, but what you would give."

Her brow knit, giving him an expression that was stern, but gentle. His eyelids closed halfway as her lips found his, her voice chiding as she whispered against them, "How can you ask me that, Ardeth? You can't damage what I feel for you with love. I want you to leave because I don't want Imhotep to hurt you. I would never want you to leave me otherwise. Do you understand?" Evelyn kissed him again and he nodded.

Her heart whispered of the dangers she would be blatantly ignoring, but Imhotep had been mentally exhausted when she left him alone to have her bath. He would sleep and she could say good-bye to Ardeth, for that was her plan. She couldn't leave with him and endanger him to being hunted down no matter how much trouble he had gone through to get here or how much love drove him to do it. She would refuse to go and force him by his love for her to leave her behind. All she would ask of time was a few moments to love him again before giving herself up to the duty of making him save the world. He was sad, but not hopeless. He was brave and needed only a reminder of what he was supposed to be doing. And a farewell. So she took advantage of Imhotep's repose and drew the other side of her dress down to the middle of her arm, tempting Ardeth's eyes with the promise of what lay beneath.

"We have to leave," he told her gently, his midnight gaze upon the threshold of her collar and making a trail up to her eyes. "I would give to you my love without ending if I could, but we cannot risk this." His gaze was ever intense, as if he could view beyond her eyes into what lay inside, and she couldn't meet it for very long. It made her feel naked and she was suddenly afraid of what he would see.

And in those eyes of his she could see a willingness to show her all of him in return, and that more than anything made her want to hide. "Ardeth, I…" she began, pulling her sleeves back up and looking away. If he were so willing to allow her into every part of him, then he deserved the same consideration, no matter how much it might hurt her to speak it. But what should she say? What would he think? She didn't want to tell him this and even more so didn't want it to be true. Imhotep was seducing her and Evy willfully allowed it while loving _him_. He would be angry and hurt, he would think her no better than a common harlot. "I gave myself to him," she admitted softly. Hot tears raced down her cheeks as she held her dress to her and closed her eyes, waiting for him to turn away.

He didn't, of course. "I know," Ardeth said gently, pulling her back and wiping her tears with a warm hand. She wondered how he knew, if it were that plain or expected of her. His fingers found her chin and lifted, his eyes locking hers into a gaze that made her tears come faster. "It doesn't matter, Evelyn. I love you." Those welcoming arms pulled her into him and Evy rested against that warmth, so soft and strong. It felt like a dream after so long of giving herself to a man she didn't love. Ardeth pressed his forehead to hers and ran his thumb across her bottom lip, breathing, "That will never change, no matter what kind of love you would have of me."

A moment passed before she kissed him in reply. When he let go of her mouth, Evelyn darted glances around the softly lit room. Though no one would dare disturb her in here and her king was asleep, Evelyn felt vulnerable in the open with him. Their time would be short, but how could she not at least say good-bye? Perhaps they could keep their love a secret and he could hide here somewhere in this massive castle, or maybe this would allow him to let go. Or maybe Imhotep would kill them. She didn't know, but at least for a time they would be safe here. Evy clasped his hand into hers, drawing him around the warm pool in the center of the room, back into the shadows where they wouldn't be seen.

Knowing her intent, Ardeth again tried to stop the tide of what she would not let him escape. "Evelyn, we _must_ go now. We cannot allow ourselves to do this now."

"We'll be fine," her whisper assured him, as she reached to touch his hair. His hand caught her wrist and stopped her from enticing him, but she was resolved. She allowed her other sleeve to fall back down her arm, bearing a milky shoulder for his eyes, and despite himself, he looked with a want he could not stop. "He's asleep, Ardeth. No one would dare enter this room but him. We might never…" 

But he too was resolved. "No, Evelyn. It's not safe. Our time is short and our chances already narrow. If someone by chance saw me…"

"They would have already arrested you," she finished.

Ardeth shook his head and let her wrist go. "It doesn't matter. I will not risk…"

Evy crossed her arms, looking up into his eyes with an unguarded expression. "Just how far do you think we'll get in the freezing cold," she asked him and knew he would understand what she was truly getting at. So she waited for it to dawn in his lovely eyes and without fail it did. Her eyes grew moist at the uncertainty written on his face, the doubt she was causing him to feel. "We have a chance to say good-bye, Ardeth. You know what you have to do and I know what _I_ have to do. I want you to save me, but I know what will happen if you do."

Still his answer was the same. "I'm not leaving you here. If I do, you may die."

"And if you don't leave me _you'll_ die," she retorted in a shaking voice as she tried to draw strength from somewhere. The resolution in his stance made her turn her back on him in frustration. And here it was. Hope playing another game with her heart. Imhotep had been calm, caring and gentle. Not someone she could fall in love with certainly, but someone she could survive with. Now life gave her this most dangerous choice to make and with all of her she wanted to run away with Ardeth, but two years had taught her what happened when she took the attractive road. Imhotep was patient, but not _that_ patient. Her eyes watched water falling down into the pool with certainty of where to go. "If I go missing he'll hunt us in the cold. There's nowhere to go in England, Ardeth. It's all dead."

Evy felt a hand touch her back, smoothing the curve of her spine up, then back down. His fingers toyed with the fastener near the small of her back before drawing her zipper softly up. "We will make it, Evelyn. I was given a plan before leaving Egypt. You must trust me."

Before the zipper reached halfway up her back Evy pulled away from him. "I trust you," she told him, turning with her chin raised in defiance. "Now if you won't give me a proper good-bye then I'll thank you to get out of my bathroom."

Ardeth's expression remained fixed with grave determination that he would not leave this room without her. "I will get out, Evy, have patience. And you will come with me. Your spoiled denial will not change my mind in this instance." 

"Spoiled?" she said indignantly. The Med-Jai stepped closer and she saw a certain glint in his dark eyes that warned her the time for argument was over. It became a question of who would move first then. She took the initiative. Evy turned and bolted to the edge of the pool, knowing if she jumped he could not follow her and remain dry. He was faster and stronger, but the water too near for him to stop her from diving in. When she hit the surface of the petal-covered bathwater Evy fought to gain footing, smoothed her now soaked hair out of her face and swam to the back wall where there was no floor for him to reach for her from. She looked up into his calculating face. "If you leave with wet clothes you'll freeze."

He gave her a small, unexpected smile and rubbed his chin with a little pacing. "Yes. You are right, my friend. It appears you have won, does it not? Because I cannot enter that pool fully clothed." Something about his easy manner wasn't quite right and Evy watched him warily, unconsciously backing further into the wall as he walked to the stairs leading into the water. His hand reached for the clasp to his robe. "But I meant what I said. I will _not_ leave you here."

Evy's eyes widened when the robe hit the floor and he began unbuttoning a shirt underneath. Covering her lips and caught between watching him disrobe and being a proper lady, she turned away, but gave him a sidelong glance. "Honestly, Ardeth!" His shirt fluttered down beside his cloak, leaving his bronze muscle exposed for her vision. The Med-Jai then sat down on the floor and began working to bare his feet. He was going to strip down and come after her. "For Heaven's sake, keep your clothes on! Have you taken leave of your senses?"

He tossed one boot aside with that interesting smile still gracing his handsome features. "A moment ago you seemed rather eager for me to disrobe. Has this changed?" Ardeth started unlacing his remaining shoe and left it on the floor, standing up to reach for the buckle of his belt. "The longer this takes, the more likely it is that someone will find us. Imhotep sleeps, but it will not last all night. Now before I am completely unclothed, I will give you one last chance to make this easy on both of us. Will you come to me?"

Evelyn gave him a decidedly dirty look and he unclasped his belt. "Fine!" she snapped, drawing her heavy skirts into her hands and trudging through the pool. "Bloody impossible! Taking your _clothes_ off! Where _are_ your manners?" He laughed at her mutterings and slipped his boots back on while she approached. Evy reached the steps and splashed water up at him with a glare. "Laugh now, _Mr. Bay_. You just wait."

She reached the floor, squeezed her wet hair out and watched him button his shirt. It occurred to her then that he couldn't hold her and put his clothing back on at the same time. If she could just escape him… He eyed her and picked up on her mental processing, visibly not quite sure what she was thinking about. Then Evy made the mistake of looking at a door to the left-rear of the room before actually running, tipping him off that she wasn't quite as ready to give in as she had appeared. He tensed and she bolted, but couldn't get the door open in time to escape. Ardeth caught up too quickly this time and slammed it shut, caging her against the metallic surface within an unrelenting hold.

Evy turned into a very intense expression and knew there was no way he would walk out of this castle alone. "You're hopeless, Ardeth," she breathed into lips so near hers as a strong hand found her slick shoulder. "I only want to save you."

He offered her a kiss that caused her to tremble as he whispered, "I know. And I…" 

But whatever he had been about to say was stopped short by the main entrance creaking open. Ardeth grabbed her wrists as guards with sidearms entered, and opened the door behind them. She might have asked what he thought he was doing as he jerked her back against his chest, but for the hand suddenly covering her mouth. Her dress slipped down her shoulders slightly as he pulled a dagger from his belt and held it to her throat. His deep voice became filled with bitter sarcasm. "Tell your king that it was a good trick, seducing her against me, but I have grown beyond caring if she wants it or not. She is mine and I am taking her." Evy closed her eyes as his blade smoothed down her neck, thinking, _No. No, he can't do this. I won't let him die alone._

The head guard, a large man she identified as 'Rafe', approached with a dark grin written across his lips. Her heart sank. This was one of Celestine's loyal followers. Whatever this man believed or saw, it was going to be twisted by the time it reached Imhotep. "Don't be a fool," he said, clearly hoping Ardeth _would_, in fact, oblige. "Let the queen go and I'm sure our illustrious king will grant you a quick death. Kidnap her and I guarantee he'll make it nice and slow."

"I believe I will take my chances with kidnapping. Thank you for the warning," Ardeth replied, pulling her into the threshold of the door and holding the blade closer into her skin. "Tell me, what do you think your king would do to you for allowing his prize to be killed? Make no mistake, if she will not be mine she will belong to no one."

The bloodthirsty guard edged closer with his Colt pointed directly at Ardeth's head. Evy could feel the gravity of the moment in his tense stance, his wary, tight hold and the unease of his breathing. How this could go any way but badly was beyond her reasoning. And Celestine would only see that it was made worse in the mind of her husband. Imhotep had taken a disliking to this woman's pushy behavior but against this that would not matter. He would see only the betrayal, only that they had wronged him and needed to pay. She would not let Ardeth bear this alone. Whatever was his to be punished with she would share in.

In an instant the moment changed from uncertain silence to rapid movement. With a split second decision Ardeth yanked her through the door and into the sitting room beside it, pushed her away from him and set to the task of moving a desk to block the entrance. Evy felt panic spread through her as she pulled her dress back up and tried to squeeze water from her skirt. "The door! They'll come through the other door, Ardeth!"

The desk halfway moved, Bay abandoned it and inhaled deeply with a concerned expression. His dark eyes flit over her, to the hallway exit and back again before he took action. "Come on," he pressed, grabbing her hand. They took desperate flight into the hallway. Guards could be heard already on their way around the corner to head them off. Ardeth yanked her right towards a nearby flight of stairs and said, "You must fight me, Evy, when they see us. If we get caught they will believe you remain loyal to Imhotep."

Evelyn inhaled a quiet breath as they nearly stumbled down the stairs in grave need to escape. A dozen thoughts ran through her mind, from the biting cold outside, to rooms they could hide within and frightening most of all to Imhotep and how he was going to feel and what he could do. All of it swirled around in her viciously, but one thing remained clear. "No," she told him as they hit another floor. Ardeth gave the hallway a quick glance and led her left. Voices swarmed after them like doom.

He hissed, "Yes," in reply and pulled her around another corner, then stopped for a moment to pant and fix a firm expression on her. Those dark eyes of his glittered in concern and the panic of the moment hit her. They could very well die tonight and the reality stayed all emotion but cold fear and longing, as though she would never see him again. His voice washed over her softly and urgently. "Evelyn, if you ever heed my wisdom in anything, do so in this."

Time to respond was not given as he again took her hand to resume the escape, the relentless shouts of the hunting guards ever closing in on them. It was on her lips to refuse him once more and to keep doing it, but argument right now was pointless. She simply would not give this to him. She couldn't, not after all she had brought him to. If she took place in a lie like that, for her own sake while he suffered, it would stay in her mind forever and that was something she was not prepared to live with. "Where can we hide? You will need something to cover you from the snow," he asked as they ran.

Her private chambers, so near the lion's den, she was about to answer, but was cut off suddenly. As they approached a new hallway three guards ran out in front of them, but ever-prepared as a warrior should be Ardeth didn't miss a beat as he took stride in front of her, drew his dagger and kicked the first of them in the side. The tall blue-eyed sentry groaned and fell away, quickly replaced by another, younger man with startling green eyes. He pulled a gun, aimed and attempted to end this once and for all, but Bay was too quick. Evy watched as he grabbed at the guard's wrist and wrestled him for his weapon, her adrenaline rushing as she searched for ways she could help him.

The third guard ignored Ardeth and came for her hesitantly, as if trying to discern whether she was a traitor or if she truly was the victim in this. Ardeth's wishes for her swept through her mind—his want that she survive this, but the choice could not be changed within. She sealed her fate with tentative kick. There would be no going back now. Surprised and unprepared, the guard's unprotected groin received the blow, causing him to double over with a cry. When he hit the floor in pain Evy couldn't stifle a satisfied little smirk.

Ardeth's groan as he slammed against the wall pulled her out of it quickly enough, however, and when she turned she saw the tall sentry approaching him fast with a drawn sword. Her stomach muscles tightened and her throat dried suddenly with a gasp as he swung right for Ardeth's head. She hadn't even realized her eyes had closed until the blade clanged against the wall with a sharp metallic echo. Evy forced herself to look and saw with relief that her strong warrior-friend had ducked in time to escape losing his head, then thrust himself into the attacker, sending both to the floor. Weapon dropped, the guard leveled a punch right for Ardeth's jaw and Evy took the opportunity to step past the little skirmish to claim his fallen sword.

The second guard, fair-skinned, young and unkempt, dove for it just as she reached, and Evy found herself face to face with a little fight of her own. Her fingers curled around the hilt and dirty fingers clasped around her own roughly, causing her to grit her teeth against the pain. Evy knit her brow at the man, yanked and let out a frustrated hiss when he failed to release her. The green-eyed guard snickered at her try, then unexpectedly moved his attention elsewhere. Following his eyes, she saw that her unzipped dress had come down enough to allow him a view within and with an indignant, "I beg your pardon!" she balled her fist and sent it into his face without regard or aim. Men, she discovered, did not plan for these things to come from her. He growled and raced his free hand to his now tender eye, the other glaring her down for her audacity. She cried out when he squeezed her fingers cruelly.

A sudden shout ended all disputes. "There! Take them!" Rafe snapped and a chill spread through Evy following the footsteps closing in on them. This was it, they were caught and despite his recent calm Evy feared Imhotep's wrath would come with no mercy. The young guard pulled her close to him with a wicked, triumphant smile.

At once a swarm of guards overtook the fight and Evelyn felt herself wrenched from his loathsome hold. Rafe yanked her away from the circle of men that surrounded Ardeth and began to subdue him. Of course subdue to one of Celestine's men went far beyond disarming and calming. She watched in horror as he continued the fight and struggled against the beating that quickly began. Seeing her pained expression, from beside her the captain of the guard snorted in contempt. "What's the matter, Highness? That ruffian hurt you?" His eyes traveled her wet body and she drew her dress closer around herself.

Yet she was not about to go without her own and she almost welcomed it when it happened, as guilt and pain swelled over her. "See that?" he said, pointing at the circle of pain as Ardeth yelled out. "That's 'cause he dared come here and on top of that, tried to pull one over on us. And this?" She stood rigid, fully expecting the blow with downcast eyes. Suddenly Evelyn's head snapped back and her body fell against the stone floor. "That's for betrayal of the king, traitor."

But she didn't hear that last part.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Nashean, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania, Reyhanen, Celestine and Jorin (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Hmm…I hope this turned out all right. Up until tonight Ardeth and Evy were supposed to have a special little visit. ;-) But I thought given the need for speed, it would be more likely he would insist they run. So I changed it real quick…hopefully for the more realistic.

**To Reviewers**:

**Lula** – Hehehe! Yes, I know if Ardeth were a male prostitute in my town I'd be working my butt off. ;-D That wasn't out loud, was it? Hehehe..funny scene you mention! God knows it would be fun to try and pull those pants down. ;-) And even more fun when they came off! :-D Anyway, thanks for the review, my friend! Glad you liked! Now you know Evy's reaction…I hope it was acceptable given the circumstances. :-O

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks! :-) Thanks for sticking with the story, too…it means a bunch!

**Marcher** – Hehehe…I thought Ardeth the Gigolo was fitting, given Oded's previous role. ;-D I'm sure he'd make a bundle, too. ;-) As for Immy, I'm glad I'm getting the effect I've gone for…poor monster! He'd make a bundle at gigoloing too. ;-) Anyway, my Hitler/Hess/Meela thing came all by fortune…I was reading about him the other day for background info and a reason to tie him into Celestine and low and behold this secretary of his was born in Alexandria, so I was like, "Whoa! Gotta take advantage of that!" Thanks a bunch, my friend! Hope **Captain**'s going well…looking forward to seeing Furby's butt killed… :-D

**Marxbros** – Thanks, friend! Hehehe…yes, Hitler wouldn't be on my list of possible lovers either. ;-) But apparently some women did find him attractive, as insane as he was. Thanks for citing things that you thought were in character…Evy's one of my ones I tend to think I do rather generically as well as Immy. So it's definitely nice to hear! :-D And er…Ardeth safe?? :-O *screams like SpongeBob*

**Zarah** – Heeey! How was that for some Ardeth/Evy action? Not as much as I had planned for, but more realistic, I think. :-O :-\ Maybe I'll post the little sexish scene into my snippets or something. Anyway, thanks a bunch for the review!! :-D

**Deana** – Lol…hmm, looks like she succeeded in getting them arrested. Yikes! Like I said, I can't not get him into trouble! :-D Woohoo! Speaking of trouble, where are you girl!? You were supposed to show me more Ardeth in trouble tonight. ;-) Well, maybe not officially, but you can't blame a girl for being curious and hopeful!


	32. The Path of Traitors

**Speak Softly**  
The Path of Traitors

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

His awakening was quick and painful from bruises covering various places on his body, but that was nothing compared to the guilt and anger he felt at himself for not getting her out faster. He had been so careful in his search of the castle and firm in resolve to save her, but the weight on his heart had struck him down like a sword, weakening him in her light. What had he been thinking, letting their precious moments slip away for soft talk and arguments? The Med-Jai exhaled sharply. He had been thinking of love and failure and need. Proof that he could carry on and that his failure did not decrease his worth. Ardeth cursed his needs and opened his eyes. He could only hope Evy would not suffer for his foolishness. He was a warrior; he was supposed to be better than this. What had death and resurrection done to him? He should have grabbed her first without greeting, kidnapped her away and allowed for his need to wait until they were safely on the road.

He had been thrown onto a cot in a cold, stone cell beneath the castle and shoved against the bars to have his wrists bound tightly around one. His head ached from the blow as he slowly straightened and groaned as his body protested. Nothing was broken, mercifully, but he held little doubt that would change soon. Not even a cut marred him, though his little beating had been dirty. A precursor to what was sure to follow when Imhotep got a hold of him. The priest was furious, betrayed and fighting to keep himself contained. His possession of Evy was again threatened, but it was more now. Some of his more private illusions had just been shattered by a servant's wake up call. The servant was now dead. He could feel the blood on Imhotep's clenched hands.

But there was more to worry about than his mere life. Ardeth's eyes hit something in the dim shadows of a cell across from him. She had not heeded him, not betrayed him to win her own life and hurt him with what could happen to her because of that. Evelyn lay upon the floor of her cell with her wet dress clinging to her, unmoving and possibly unconscious. Yanking on the chains did no good. After a futile try, Ardeth curled his fingers around the bar central to his bondage and pulled it in frustration, but lost the will. Laying his head against it, he turned his eyes on her and wondered the extent of her injuries. Had she been hurt? Touched wrongly? A part of him was afraid to know. _I have failed again. I do not belong to this earth anymore._

Yet he had to know. He had to be strong and face evil, if only to comfort her before whatever Imhotep would do to them. So he called her softly and it was enough. "Ardeth?" Her voice was small, but she gathered enough will to sit up. There was a purple bruise marring her cheek. "Ardeth, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he told her, though his body ached from the rain of blows dealt by the hilt of guns. "How are you? What did they do?"

She shook her head, reaching up to feel her face. "That guard hit me. Knocked me out. I don't think they did anything else. I don't feel anything wrong." Evelyn's dark eyes swept the row of cells that surrounded, dimly lit and stark. "What happened? Did they say anything to you? I woke up a few minutes ago, but I didn't want draw attention to myself."

Ardeth gripped the bar and pulled himself straighter, also taking in their hopeless surroundings. "I only just woke myself. When I was brought here they said nothing. I lost consciousness before they brought you." The queen looked so fragile, fear written all over the way she held herself.

She looked into his eyes, communicating with him a wish that things would be different, but they both knew what was going to happen. Someone was going to die, perhaps both of them. Bay looked around again, as if an opportunity would bring him some answer to this, some way of escape, but he could see none. Imhotep himself hadn't made the choice yet of what was to be done to them, but whatever decision was made would be a rash one. He wasn't in the right frame of mind for rational planning. And he was coming.

Ardeth could sense it now, unhidden. Rage, betrayal, pain. Vengeance. All these things boiled in the king that now walked towards them. The blessing Ardeth had gifted Imhotep with was buried beneath the king's hate or had quite possibly burnt out. He could not tell, but even if some small glimmer of good were left in the priest it would surface too late. In his eyes Evelyn looked for hope, but to say anything of the sort would prove a lie soon enough.

Long moments passed and he could do nothing but watch her and savor what last bit of her life was left for him to see. Ardeth lowered his head, knowing his heart was open for Imhotep to read and knowing also that nothing would stay that anger. Imhotep hated him, but it was Evy's betrayal that fueled his need for revenge.

Ardeth gripped the bar tightly as finally a door down the long hall opened. Every so often since his return he entertained the idea that maybe he had been reawakened not to earth, but to hell. Imhotep was sending him images of watching Evelyn suffer and Ardeth knew that there was nothing he could do to prevent any of them from happening. How could hell be any worse?

The priest's footfalls echoed through the dungeon as he approached them with a fast and firm gait. He entered their view with a woman close behind and several attendants. The woman's smile was not unlike Imhotep's had been once upon a time: self-satisfied and smug, and her black robes offset her pale, golden hair in as unholy a contrast as evil on such a beautiful face as hers. He found the power lust in those cold eyes distasteful as she sneered at Evy.

"My king," she began, unable to disguise the enjoyment she was feeling. "I present to you your enemy and your queen. Both guilty of treason. The queen was found in the arms of this man in her bathhouse and brought here for your judgment. If I may suggest, my lord, perhaps exe…"

Imhotep turned his cold glare upon her and the priestess closed her mouth, not in fear, but deference. The king raised his hand and pointed to her, intolerance bleeding off him like an open wound. "If you speak again, Celestine, you will die." Bay watched her nod curtly and hide a smile behind her red lips.

When he turned back, his eyes fell on Evy and Ardeth thought to turn the heat on himself in the hope that she might somehow be spared and find mercy. "Will you now kill me?" he challenged, but the look on Imhotep's face suggested he knew his enemy's motives. Wordlessly the king drew his foot back and kicked Ardeth's fingers, exposed on the front side of the pole he had gripped. The Med-Jai bit back a groan and glared up at his enemy.

Imhotep ignored him and went to Evy's cell, standing before it with a threatening demeanor as he growled, "How _dare_ you do this to me! How dare you repay my mercy and generosity like this!" A booted foot collided against the cell bars as he waited for her answer.

Holding her unzipped dress up Evelyn drew herself to her knees with such a lowly, frightened expression that Ardeth nearly turned away. Seeing her with such fear in her eyes made him ache inside, which only served to irritate Imhotep further, but he couldn't help his own emotions. "I only wanted to say good-bye to him," she answered, barely above a whisper as she tried to reason with insanity. "We didn't even get to do that. Please understand. I wasn't going to leave you." 

The king held out a hand and immediately a key was passed into it. Evelyn backed away from the cell door as Imhotep unlocked it. "You expect me to believe this?" he hissed, ripping the door open.

Ardeth had to do something, anything to cause a distraction and save her from whatever terrible fate Imhotep was formulating. But there was nothing, not with his wrists bound so close together or from within his cell. Bay knit his brow and yanked on the bar angrily. "Be a man, Imhotep! Only cowards take out their revenge on guiltless women. You know she is being honest. You feel it in my heart."

Imhotep turned from her with unconcealed hatred written on his features and stance. But it was getting through, he could tell. The dread king could not hide that. "It is true," he said finally, burning his glare onto Ardeth. "She tried to stay and make you leave."

This did not please the woman Imhotep had called 'Celestine'. With a dark scowl she stepped forward and retorted, "Guiltless? My King, you believe this? That two people within each other's arms, her dress coming off her body and his shirt open, did not intend to betray you? She has committed adultery after all you have given her!"

"For the sake of love!" Ardeth shot back hotly, causing a guard to hit the bars above his hands in warning. He settled back down onto his cot. "A love we have been denied because a _selfish_ _king_ has demanded it so! What if Seti had lived, Imhotep? Would you have had him punish Ancksunamun as you would punish Nefertiri?"

Imhotep's eyes blazed at the mention of his lost love and he curled his fingers in renewed pain. Ardeth looked beyond him at Evy, who stood against the wall and waited, fearing he had said the wrong thing. But it moved the priest to leave her cell and lock it behind him. Evy rushed to the front as Imhotep approached Ardeth's and paced before it with loud, purposeful steps. "My Lord!" Celestine snapped, not bothering to hide her malcontent with this decision. "Will you leave this unpunished?"

"No, Priestess, I will not," he replied, keeping eye contact with Ardeth as he opened the cell door. Rage smoldered in those depths and the Med-Jai tensed in anticipation. The king's anger would be visited upon someone whether or not he accepted that they were just as he and Ancksunamun a lifetime ago. His spoke coolly, but the underlying feelings within were not lost upon a soul in the depths. The king hovered over him. "All sinners against the crown of a pharaoh must be punished. _All_ _of them_. How shall I punish you, sinner?"

To that Ardeth said nothing, but he could not hide the fear within him, nor the glare that graced his vision at the arrogance of this beast. The dreams did nothing to cool the anger when faced with what could happen to he and Evelyn. Imhotep drank in his emotions in triumph as he cocked his head, regarding his prisoner. "So cold is your expression. Med-Jai, what would you have me do? Release all who defy me?"

"I would have you examine your actions and compare them to a man three-thousand years ago who held a woman against her will," Bay answered low, trying to keep control of his tones for fear of making this situation worse. All that mattered was Evelyn at this point. He knew his fate was sealed. "Think on him, Imhotep, and what mercies you would have had him give."

The reply to that was as he expected. Firm, if touched by sorrow of remembrance, and final. "Seti was a king, not a man. I understand this now. I will not be weakened by a comparison. Once has mercy come for you and you forsook it. You shall make penance for the treason against my sovereignty."

"No!" Evy cried, holding the bars with horrified eyes. Ardeth watched her tremble and wondered what would happen to her once he was gone. "I'll do anything, Imhotep. I'll let you do anything to me, have anything. Please, don't do this."

Imhotep began unlocking Ardeth's wrists with a cold look aimed at his wife and hissed, "Hold your tongue, Nefertiri. I have no patience for you."

With blazing, tearful eyes Evy opened her mouth and Ardeth tensed, fearing she would get herself into further trouble. Yet he could sense the king's will that she be allowed, that he could know the extent of her loyalty. She was entering an unseen test, but spoke too soon for the Med-Jai to warn her. "Did you honestly think I would fall in love with you?" Her harsh tone resonated in the now quiet. No one spoke or made any sound, all waiting for Imhotep to respond. "I can never love you, you monster! All I wanted…and you can't…" She trailed off under a glare from her husband.

The priest yanked Ardeth to his feet with grave mental warnings of what would happen should he struggle, so Bay remained subdued for the time being. The impending explosion of anger towards Evy was instead low, sinister and detached. "This Med-Jai knew what could befall him should he test my anger, Nefertiri, and he accepted it when he chose to trespass into this castle. You wished for a farewell and that is what you shall have, my dearest possession." 

With an angry expression Imhotep jerked Ardeth from facing her and shoved his back against the bars. "Hold him!" he hissed and a guard took Ardeth's wrists as they were forced through the bars above him, holding him to whatever Imhotep wanted to do. 

The king pulled a silver knife from his belt, causing his queen to gasp desperately, _"No!"_ but there would be no mercy given this time. Ardeth forced himself to relax and bear this, recognizing in the other that the intent here was not for death or torture, but some other momentary thing Imhotep wanted done.

Quickly and without compassion, Imhotep slashed across his stomach and thighs, drawing a groan from his captive. Then Bay was released to examine his wounds on the filthy floor. He could see the gashes weren't fatally deep, but if untreated had the potential to kill through loss of life's blood. His enemy paced above him. "You have failed in your destiny, Ardeth Bay. Your blood shall paint the floor." He gripped Ardeth's shoulders with inhuman strength, forced him to his feet and shoved him out into the dim hallway, calling for Evy to be freed from her cell.

When she raced out Imhotep grabbed her arm, stopping her from seeing about him or helping him up. "You may crawl or walk, but you will be given no aid."

And the Med-Jai asked for none. Imhotep swept past him, dragging her with him towards the entrance to the upstairs, clearly expecting to be followed. "Get up, Med-Jai beast," the woman Celestine spat, kicking his hip with her heeled shoe. Half tempted to grab her leg and yank her down with him, Ardeth glared up, but did nothing to make this situation worse. If he endured perhaps Imhotep would calm down and do nothing to Evelyn. There had to be a chance for her, for Rick to save her or Jonathan.

So he got up and took an aching step, feeling blood trickle down his legs and stomach. When they came to the door and the stairs that led up, he faltered with the pain on the first step. "Bring him," Imhotep hissed impatiently, pulling his pleading queen up with him. Two guards silently came to either side of him and helped him stand, but offered no more help than that. Gripping a metallic rail, Ardeth tried again and drew a sharp breath as the slash across his thigh ripped a little further from the pressure.

An eternity later they reached the main floor. Hands wrapped around Ardeth, forcing him to follow as Imhotep led the procession through the dim and into the main hall. At this time of night mostly servants and guards could be found and those who were about stopped to stare at the group, some wearing expressions of pity and others of mockery and contempt. One young lady holding a rag moved to wipe the trail of blood behind Ardeth, but Imhotep pointed his dagger at her with a firm expression, and then looked into the faces of each of his servants. "Leave this blood here to mark the path of traitors. Let it stain the stones beneath his feet and serve as a reminder of what befalls any who come against me." The gathered silenced their low chatter and bowed their heads in acquiescence.

He was shoved again and saw the path becoming familiar. They were leading him to the back where he had entered. A blast of freezing air swept over them as Imhotep opened the grand, golden doors, then accepted a heavy cloak from a following guard. He and his sentries were dressed for the weather outside, but Ardeth and Evy were not. A horrible death would await him if he were left in such conditions.

Outside the snow glistened from the lights illuminating the palace. The oppressive sky seemed to mourn for them, sending soft tears of light snow as Imhotep dragged his queen down the staircase and to a path below leading into the darkness beyond the castle's main courtyard. Of all the horrible things that could await him, the only thing Ardeth thought of at that moment was how Evy's bare feet would freeze. He himself was already starting to feel the ache of his shivering, tense body, held tightly from the cold.

As nearness provided sight a stone archway with tall, dead hedges creating a path beyond could be seen, reminding him of the maze he had beaten at the foot of his tomb. It seemed ironic that he would be lead from death the same way he was being led to it. Perhaps this was poetic justice for his failure to meet destiny.

When his eyes hit the structure in the center of the yard, he knew there would be no break from the cold, either. The small building looked like the ruins of a tomb with stones missing and windows busted out. There was no mistaking what Imhotep was leaving him to. He would be left to die from the weather in the ruined building ahead, cold and alone in his final hours. His death would not be an easy one.

Evy began to stumble and stagger through the snow and her husband offered no help, making her walk on likely numb feet upon the frozen ground. Ardeth wanted to run to her, but the blind servants of this evil being would never allow it. They held to his cuffed wrists, two of them, and two behind with grips on his shoulders, forcing him along the path to his death. Snowflakes landed gently on his face, perhaps the last softness he would ever enjoy if he weren't allowed to touch her again and the wind howled constantly, searing its sorrow into his memory.

Behind a creaking concrete doorway Imhotep pulled his wife into the darkness. The guards were ordered in a cold tone to lead him in and once inside the small, shadowy tomb, he was held while the priest took in their surroundings. In one corner a papery form sat stiffly against the wall, molded and mummified by the freezing conditions—a chilling testament to what Imhotep wanted his enemy to suffer. A breeze howled through the open windows, burning Ardeth's flesh.

"Your tomb, Ardeth Bay, where your destiny dies and you become nothing," Imhotep breathed into the dark, demanding his enemy's attention. "Alone did you arise and alone shall you pass away."

But something demanded the attention of both men with a greater force. Her voice was small, but gravely firm. "Not alone." Evy yanked her arm away from her husband finally and stared with resolved eyes. She repeated it again and Imhotep's brow narrowed.

"You would choose this long, terrible death over what I offered before?" he hissed sharply.

Ardeth shook his head, but she would not take notice of it as she sentenced herself to death. "Yes I would."

"So be it." Ardeth jerked in the arms of his captors, sensing the intent before a hand was raised, but he was too weak, too cold to stop Imhotep when he slapped Evelyn with the strength of his anger. Immediately she succumbed to unconsciousness, falling down near a pile of snow beneath the window. There Imhotep left her and approached his Med-Jai captive. Ardeth's wrists were unlocked and the king ripped him from the guards, throwing him beside Evy to leave him to die with his lover.

~~~~~~~

It was prettier than sand by far. Far more pleasing to the eye when light touched it and far more painful to a man's warm flesh. Imhotep watched it fall from the sky absently, trying to calm his senses from what had just taken place. Bay had deserved his fate, been warned and only received that which he had earned. Nefertiri had chosen her fate. They were unworthy of this heaviness inside and of his pain.

This had been expected. Of course it had been expected. She was not his wife. Not in the emotional sense. In that way neither was he her husband, for if he were he would have let her go long ago. Imhotep's fist curled against the stone windowsill as he let his eyes grace the forest beyond his fortress walls. It did not stop the want of something that welled up inside. What it was, he did not know. Surely he was not so foolish as to believe he could ever have won her love. No, love was something given to those who were not as he was. But he was so empty inside.

The High Priest of Osiris rarely ever let the wetness of grief touch his midnight eyes or his tanned cheeks. Not unless he was vastly moved to such an act would he ever allow himself to shed tears. Tears were not for kings and men of high station. They were for the weak willed and for women and children.

His childhood had been harsh; having been abandoned at a young age to be raised by the priests of Osiris, who taught him their ways and taught him well, or else he would win the rod of the High Priest himself. Most of the orphaned boys living there at the temple had cried and been thoroughly ashamed when dragged from their studies to the High Priest's office, it being announced to all that they had wronged and would be righted at the end of a tall staff he kept for just such an occasion. Most, but not Imhotep.

For the greater part he had been a passive child, doing all that was expected of him and more to the point of pain and exhaustion, but when he did allow himself the courage of testing the High Priest's anger, Imhotep had done so because he believed he was right and proudly took his punishments without tears and without regret, for he saw winning the highly regarded man's attention as an honor, not a shame. Such had quickly won him a place in the aging man's heart and by the time Imhotep grew into a man and respected priest, it was given to him the responsibility of taking his place. For he was strong and wise and most worthy to take the title.

Such had won him the esteem of his king. Seti had seen the strength in his priest and had decided to keep this man a friend rather than an enemy. Up until Imhotep had wanted Ancksunamun that was. Unbeknownst to Imhotep at the time, she was being chosen in Seti's heart for something greater than servant to the household. They had fallen in love and neither knew they would be denied until they had gotten in too deep.

He had never known any family except the High Priest and even he had been distant, more a teacher than father. But this woman had disarmed him completely and shown him that his heart could open further if he allowed it. Pharaoh wanted for an artifact held in the home of an enemy and knowing this, Imhotep had left to retrieve it, hoping to win Seti's favor and the chance to ask his king for a reward.

He had succeeded in his quest, had taken a beating from the guards without tears and had dragged himself back to Thebes painfully to give his king his gift. And lavish with his thanks, Seti was. After having been treated for his wounds, a celebration in his honor had been thrown and there Seti had offered his faithful priest anything in the kingdom his heart desired. Ancksunamun was his bounty and when the name passed his lips all had become silent.

Seti smiled patiently and shook his head, informing his priest that she had already been chosen as his very own bride while he was away and none may touch her. Imhotep had been furious, had been heartbroken that his love had been stolen from him, but that night he did not cry, nor did he allow his anger to be known. He denied any and all gifts, saying that his servitude was reward enough and oh, how Seti had taken that loyalty to heart.

In the darkness of the temple Imhotep had let his rage consume him until he could no longer stand to be away from her. All the treasure in Egypt, all the favor of the gods paled in comparison to the love of Ancksunamun. The night she killed herself to escape Seti's abuse Imhotep had not cried, though he had come very close.

Then had come the most devastating blow to him up to that point. Rameses was gone on business, Seti dead and that left Nefertiri in the precarious position of tending to matters until such a time as her brother could be returned. His betrayal of his student had cut deep and in haste she had given in to the suggestion of a man known for his hatred of Imhotep. The Hom-Dai. The night he had been told of his fate he had been hurt that she would be so cruel with him and frightened more than any other time in his life, but no tears had been shed even then. He took the grievous curse unwillingly, but without weakness.

A year ago had met his tears with Ancksunamun's death at the hands of the Scorpion King. Word was sent that she had been brutalized severely, ravished and tormented, her body maimed until there was nothing left to resurrect. That night her finger was sent to him and he had cried bitterly for the loss in the privacy of his tent, knowing what she had suffered, knowing he would have to wait until she reincarnated again to raise her if she were even granted that chance again.

But time passed and with that, his drive for her. There was nothing he could do but wait and pray. And other things began stirring his spirit, another woman for whom he had lusted before Ancksunamun. Perhaps he would have even asked his king for her instead, had he not been moved by the concubine's love. He had no intentions of trying to win Nefertiri's heart. She despised him for the things he did and at times he felt his lust was betraying the memory of the woman he _did_ love, but one night he could not contain his need for something more. He took what he felt was owed him.

She had cried during and after, but he had been soft with her, pretending she was perhaps Ancksunamun or someone else. It had not mattered that night as it did now. She had given him a few moments away from the pain of living without his lover and that had been all he needed. So naturally he had not cried or even felt pain when she ran away and slept with his enemy. It was a small matter, requiring little punishment.

Why now the temptation came he did not know, but it made the king greatly furious to endure such a shameful entertainment as that. Imhotep touched his fingers to the chilly pane and closed his eyes, admitting to his heart that he knew what drew his weakness. He was a monster. Damned to nothingness and filled with blinding dark. Ardeth Bay's blessing had shown him this blatantly and without any comfort. He was nothing in the face of the gods. No, he had never expected Evelyn Carnahan would ever come to love him, but the peace between them had filled the king with a longing he had not felt since after Ancksunamun had passed away.

Perhaps even in time, he had imagined, she may have grown to care for him on some level, but he now knew the folly of that thinking. 

She would never care for him. Not on any level. _Ever_. No one would. The love between Nefertiri and Ardeth burned brightly, searing his mind and leaving him empty and filled with despair; for he knew he would never be loved like that. _Never_. The only woman who had ever felt that way and could ever love him through this incessant darkness had been taken from him, a punishment from the gods, no doubt. With an enraged cry he kicked over a nearby table and sent its contents flying.

Women would throw themselves at him, but he would never see that sparkle in their eyes like his lover had given him, like Nefertiri gave his enemy. Imhotep covered his lips and closed his eyes again, feeling physically ill and truly afraid for the first time since the beginning of this. Time stretched bleakly before him endlessly and offered no hope of fulfillment. The light was beautiful, but this holy blessing brought down upon him suffering unlike he had ever suffered before. And even in the face of that he knew he deserved it for his crimes, for he had let go of far more than Seti.

He was darkness and shadow, his curse preventing him from ever feeling that which had given him the punishment in the first place and there was nothing he could do. He had no hope of ever feeling love's light warming him and the knowledge made the strong High Priest of Osiris give himself over to the weakness of tears.

"Ancksunamun, what shall I do?" Imhotep whispered like a forgotten prayer, wishing this depth of emotion would be taken from him. He craved for what he could never have and in that craved for the solace in darkness once more.

But the comfort would never come to him. It was too late for that. He could not stop Bay's gift from consuming him with truth and that fact burned inside him as he victimized another piece of furniture with his kick. This time it was a candle stand that toppled over and Imhotep watched the vanilla burning wax split into two pieces. Like his heart. Like his future. 

"Die painfully, Ardeth Bay, for this curse you have lain upon me," he hissed, but it did no good against the discontent he felt. He knew nothing of what he wanted anymore. To do this terrible thing to Nefertiri and her lover and willingly embrace being a monster, or to be weak? His rage dissipated into sorrow as he revisited what had been done to him so long ago.

_No mercy._

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Nashean, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania, Reyhanen and Celestine (and a few dead/less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Hmm…despite my misgivings about this, I post anyway. I hope it's not going too far too fast, but there's only 3 more chapters so I spose it's gotta go somewhere. :-O

**To Reviewers**:

**Liz** – Well, we've all got our tastes. :-D Thanks for reviewing that you could appreciate the writing anyway…it's much appreciated! :-) Thanks!

**Deana** – Thanks! Glad you liked the last-minute revisions I didn't swing past ya! Yes, Immy will killllllllllll theeeeem! Muahahaha! ;-) Cause he's so cute when he's killin'.

**Marcher** – Hehe…yepper peppers, cannonballs away! Muahaha. ;-) Thanks for the compliments and the read, my friend! :-) I'll be adding your stuff to my site…as well as a story belonging to Dead-Girls-Watch…been sorta lax on that. :-O Doh! Thanks! Glad Captain's on the way, if a little slow. Whatever makes it perfect, ya know! :-D Looking forward to it!

**Raptor** – Thanks for the drop by! Greatly appreciated! Hope you continue to enjoy. :-)

**Dead-Girls-Watch **– Thankie, my friend! Glad you liked this. Glad it was worth it and I thank you for saying so. :-) Hope all is well with you…and I'll be adding your chapter to my site tonight…sorry about the wait. :-O

**Marxbros** – hehehe..shot Evy, now there's a thought. I reread it and it does sound like that's what could have happened. Doh! Silly me. Hehehe…well, thank goodness it was only a hit, eh? Anyway, I hope your trip goes well and safe. :-) Take care! Thanks a bunch for continuing to read and spare time to throw a review my way. Means a bunch! :-D

**Zarah** – Hehe..I can't help cliffhanger chapters…I just like doing it. ;-) Muahaha. Yes, Ardeth stripping…I'd sell all but my soul to see that. ;-) Thanks a bunch! :-D Hope you continue to like!


	33. Irrevocably Human

**Speak Softly**  
Irrevocably Human

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Little snowflakes were tickling her face, but right now the strength to open her eyes failed her. Any type of movement seemed unlikely, for her whole body ached unlike anything she had ever felt before in her life. Nothing she had been through had been anything like this. Nothing.

Evelyn was finding it hard to breathe just now, her chest congested and rattling as she wheezed for air. The cold was so startlingly depressing and rough that she felt she would have almost done anything to escape it, even some of the vilest things Imhotep may have asked. A moan escaped her lips and even that sent aching through her chest. No, she couldn't move. Maybe if she stayed still she would die soon.

Yet something called to her from nearby and she knew that to remain like this and leave him would be selfish. She had done enough selfish things to this man already without having to abandon him. Just what had she been thinking, trying to seduce him in her bathhouse? Was she no longer even a lady? She would be the death of him now, if she hadn't before.

He was soundless, not moving, not groaning and for all she knew, not breathing. Evy had to get to him. Blinking back the snow that had fallen on her, she forced her eyes to open, but her cradled arms just would not move. "Please," she whimpered in the shadows, knowing she needed to find the strength to untangle her limbs and sit up. Tears pooled in her dark eyes as she thought about just what had befallen them and what sort of death awaited. She wasn't an expert on frostbite or dying by it, so she had no idea what steps their bodies would take in shutting down, but it wasn't going to be pleasant. Would they smother from congestion? Fall unconscious and let life slip away?

Her jaw shivered as she forced her arms apart and to the concrete beneath her. Both it and her back were so cold she had trouble telling where her body left off and the floor began. It hurt, moving. Small places where her skin had collected and saved up heat from flesh meeting flesh were now assaulted by the freezing air and it stung like a knife slicing into her skin. "Ah," she cried loudly, drawing in precious, shuddering breaths that echoed as she somehow managed to sit up. The cold sailed over her bare skin and made her want to sink back down.

Ardeth was a few feet away, his eyes closed and his body still. His head was pillowed on an arm as he lay on his side and he looked like he could have merely been asleep, except for the blood shining darkly against the whitened floor and the snow covering him. Through pain Evy crawled in the darkness to where he lay and rested a cold hand onto his cheek. Little warmth was given through the touch and more tears assailed her as she looked him over.

Imhotep had left him his fair share of wounds, but they were nothing compared to the temperature. Snowflakes blanketed the left side of his body, little twinkles flickering upon his lashes and lips with her movement. Evy coughed and brushed the white from his dark brown hair. He did not rouse and she wondered if he were even alive. But a part of her didn't want to know, so she made no move to check. She was with him now and felt safe enough to die here.

Eternal Sorrow, with its purple haze, shone through the window and she gazed at it numbly through a broken window in this tomb, watching the clouds move as she lay down, folding her arms on his side and arranging their bodies like a cross. Her panting filled the air, back-dropped by the world's continuous exhale outside. It wouldn't be long now. Honestly, she wasn't sure of that, but Evy kept telling herself that, willing it to be true. Against him she began to grow comfortable, a twisted version of it, but a position she felt willing to let go in. Evy caressed her hand down his stomach, wishing the night had played out differently.

Countless moments passed as she waited for unconsciousness to fall again, but it was no use. She was painfully alert and hurting everywhere. Evelyn was thankful Ardeth slept through this. Slowly it began filtering to her senses that he did, in fact, draw breath, shallow and quick. This was something she would never wish on anyone except the man that put them here. Her hatred of him gave her the will to close her eyes to escape.

But a cough from below drew her attention and the sound of it made her shudder. Ardeth coughed again, a deep rasping sound that betrayed both his suffering and that he was now awake to feel it. Evy quickly pulled herself off his aching body and rested beside him, drawing him into her arms. He gratefully wrapped his own around her and rubbed his cheek across hers, coughing a few more times and offering no words. Evy could feel him shivering uncontrollably and it made her want to cry.

When he finally stopped coughing enough to settle for a moment, he limply held to her and pet her with icy hands. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to him, unable to bring her voice any louder.

"Mm mmm," he hummed negatively, tightening his hold as much as he could and exhaling raggedly. "Do not say it." He coughed a few more times and pulled his face back to look at her softly. "We have to get away from this window."

Fighting the urge to ask him what the use was, Evy nodded. She would not begrudge him any hope he had, no matter how worthless. Now more used to the cold, if one could call it that, she was the first to rise and for that she was thankful in that she could offer him the help he may have given her if he had been first to awaken into this frozen hell. A weak grip found her hand and she did her best to pull him up, draping his arm across her shoulder and aiding him to his knees. But he was too weak and fell almost immediately, pulling her down with him and turning so he took the brunt of the fall. She collapsed onto his chest and felt tempted to stay there. "Too much blood," he whispered almost reflectively and she sighed and sat up to tend him. A new darkness on her dress caught her eyes sharply and without considering the volume, she moaned in despair at the red wetness on the front of her.

He wasn't going anywhere and he knew it well enough not to try and foolishly waste energy. Ardeth relaxed against the freezing, stone floor and looked Evelyn over as she struggled with stiff fingers to pull her dress back up. He couldn't let her go on that way; couldn't do so rightly and feel good about it. So with equal struggle he lifted his heavy seeming arms and began trying to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes widened. "Don't you dare!" she hissed, then coughed and he kept on anyway. Her chill hands slapped his from his shirt and he wondered if she wouldn't just win this argument. His strength was failing him rapidly and death wouldn't be too far away from either of them.

But she would die first. Life buzzing around them soaked into his changed body, prolonging life and giving him the blessing of being with her until the very last. Then perhaps he too would find an end. He brought his fingers back to the still closed shirt and she again stopped him from giving her what little he could offer. "Evelyn," he pleaded in a voice that barely worked, wanting to help her, but knowing she had the advantage over him right now. She wouldn't help him. Evy pinned his arms beside him weakly, but it was enough to keep him from moving. "I won't take it off," he promised, searching through his mind for a compromise. "Just open it and take warmth from my body. And do not argue with me over it."

She looked a little wary about that request, but honored it, fumbling with his buttons and inviting a cool breeze into his shirt momentarily. Ardeth shivered and watched her turn her dress around so the open zipper was in front, offering him the same warmth he wanted to give, and a wan smile found his lips. Then she lay down beside him and pulled him to his side again, hugging him into her warmth. He could feel a cold slickness pass from his bare flesh to hers and knew it for what it was, his blood. His wounds ached in the freezing air.

For a little while they stayed that way and he found himself drifting off, forgetting his stinging slashes and bruised up back, until she interrupted the quiet and he opened his eyes. "I've just realized something," she whispered, caressing her cheek against his collar. "I never told you I loved you. You've said it to me a few times, but I've never returned it."

Ardeth shook his head and pet her gently. "It's all right, Evelyn. I know that you love me."

"No," she retorted, pulling herself back to gaze into his face. "It's not all right." Cold fingers brushed against his bottom lip as dark eyes looked him over. "I love you, Ardeth."

Her goodbye. If life's story had a rhythm it would see her dead after such a statement, he thought idly, reaching to trace her cheeks with shaking hands. "I love you, too," he told her, watching her struggle and wishing he could take it away from her. Evy embraced him again and he wondered what ages would pass them by here in this little tomb. Rick and Jonathan would likely never know what had befallen them.

At least they were together, but he would gladly suffer death alone if the priest would only have mercy on her. Let her live somewhere, taken care of and without having to fear him. And it was within Imhotep's heart to do such a thing, too. For all the evils he had just done, Ardeth could sense his resolve to hatred failing. Necromancer's words rushed back over the Med-Jai, the warnings of what a shared life meant and now he was beginning to see the evidence in the other. The dreams had shown him the curse, now Imhotep's feelings were showing _him_ the blessing.

Right now the priest was fighting the light threatening to push him over the edge, calling to him to take back what he had just done. He was mourning the revelation of who he was now and who he could have been. Despite everything Ardeth understood him and it gave him no joy to feel such despair in his enemy. Imhotep would never be merciful to him, but perhaps that light could be swayed to her even still. He decided to try something he had never thought of before now.

_Imhotep, _he tested mentally, not sure what to wait for or if this sort of communication would be possible. Ardeth sighed when he received no distinguishable reply and closed his eyes, not wanting to let go of the desire to save her. He could see no hope, but he wasn't ready to give in. He had survived the dungeons, Necromancer and death by jackals. It couldn't end here. Not for her. _Please, let her live. I know you have the desire to find yourself again. I don't ask for my life, only hers. Do not allow her to choose this._ Even if the priest didn't hear his thoughts, perhaps heaven would somehow. Evelyn was becoming still against him, fading away and he could do nothing.

It came without warning, sounding through his mind loudly, coupled with longing and rage. _You know nothing of my desires, Med-Jai! _the voice of his enemy snapped and Ardeth's eyes flew open to be certain that he was not standing at the opening of their tomb. He must have jerked, for it caught Evy's attention as well. "What's wrong?" she asked in a sleepy voice, not bothering to rise up.

"Nothing," Ardeth replied quickly, unnerved, but searching for the voice again. It found him, cynical and filled with hate. _You think you understand, but you do not. You know love, Med-Jai. You know light and yourself, but you do not know me. Die in your lover's arms and leave me be._

Absently the Med-Jai glared ahead, rubbing Evy's back in despair to see her live through this. Imhotep's refusal angered him. _You spoiled child! _he flared naturally, almost able to forget where this argument was being waged. _You kill us and demand peace? You will never find it, Imhotep, even after we are gone. You know as well as I that the time for that has passed. Forever your guilt will consume you and you will never find fulfillment in anything you do, not because the curse keeps it from you, but because you deny it to yourself! You have the means to…_

_If you are wise, you will hold your thoughts from me, Med-Jai. I warn you, I will… _the king tried to interrupt, but Ardeth wasn't going to let this go. Evelyn's fading warmth against him strengthened his resolve.

_Do as you will, priest, but you _will_ hear me and this is one place you cannot hide. For that I thank you for the gift you gave, for now I can tell you everything you need to hear and there is nothing you can do but come and end my life yourself!_ He could feel himself panting in cold air and that finally prompted his companion to tilt her head so she could see what was wrong. Her lips parted, but Bay shook his head and gave her a squeeze. "Wait." He couldn't afford to stop the battle now.

_Your second chance will pass you by with her death. Forget your pride for once in your unlife and do what is right. Do what you believe in, for make no mistake I know you know what you're allowing is wrong, and let mercy back into your heart. Not because it will manipulate her and not because it will further your interests, but because you have the means. Time will fade and with that, her anger and pain. Give her a chance at the future she denies herself._

The mental fight was exhausting in his present state and even with Evy watching with worried eyes, he had to give up the tense way he was holding himself. Aching, sick and dying, he laid his head against the floor and unintentionally went limp in her arms, too tired to fight back his weariness. "Ardeth?" she questioned sharply and he groaned a response he thought had been clear enough to convey that he was all right. But he wasn't, he knew, even if he wanted her to believe so. It wouldn't be long now. He could feel every ounce of his strength seeping away, bleeding from his open wounds and it seemed so easy to let go. Just fade away and forget the fight, the world and the duty that would never be fulfilled.

But Evy settled against him again, reminding him that he was not alone. There was still duty before him and that was to her, to see her through this and wait for her to die before giving in to the calling dark. So he forced himself to open his eyes and accept the world again, to muster up enough strength to touch her face. Weak fingers rubbed Evelyn's soft cheek until he could no longer tell if they were moving or not, so numb they were from the unending cold. Countless moments passed away giving no sign that Imhotep would have mercy on her. In the end he would pay for that and for everything else.

Dazedly, he watched snow begin to fall outside, his eyelids becoming heavier and his body stiff. He watched until finally his sight gave way as well, but just as he began to surrender to sleep, something interrupted him. Somewhere in the haze he could hear a concrete scrape and with a little effort he realized it sounded like the door swinging open. There were voices as well, but too muffled for him to understand.__

A sensation, barely felt and just on the edge of his failing perception suggested Evelyn had been removed from his body and he let relief spread through him. Perhaps there was still time to save her and give her back Rick and Jonathan. He would have watched her leave, but for the second time since his return he simply couldn't move. Thankfully this would be the final time. He would find the brink of death and pass it.

Or so he would have thought if his hurting limbs hadn't surged with pain as hands pulled him up from his place on the floor. Immediately he fell and those rough hands found him again, yanking him up to make him walk. He didn't know how many guards helped brace him, but when the freezing wind hit full force he knew they had managed to get him outside.

Ardeth opened his eyes and tried to see ahead, but the guards blocked his vision and the dizzy nausea kept his attention unfocussed as they pulled him along. How his legs worked he could not guess and even so he could not think clearly enough to care. Not until they opened the palace doors and ushered him through. The heat ripped at his flesh worse than the knives of the jackals and Ardeth cried out, again falling away from the hold of his captors. It burned so much that he entertained perhaps he had died after all and been sent to the underworld.

The stress of the pain brought more coughing, which threatened to smother him, but death had fled. Somehow he knew that, though he could not place why. Once more the men surrounded him, not allowing him to fight back the pain and he gasped when they forced him to stand. It hit him then that Evy was not crying out, screaming or anything. That frightened him. Had she died? Surely pain that made him give voice to it would demand the same of her.

Ardeth batted weakly at the hands circling his arms and tried to find her in the maze of guards. He called her name, or thought he did, but in reality the prayer had only been in his mind. It was enough. A command to stop came and at the head of the line Imhotep turned, carrying her limp form in his arms. He had heard his enemy's needful call and was willing to answer at least to where she was. Whether or not she lived, Ardeth did not know. In all appearances she appeared dead and the priest's expression was neutral, laced with melancholy. "No," the Med-Jai whispered, unable to take his eyes from her. Necromancer had said she would die. Was this it?

Imhotep looked at him coolly, then shifted his eyes to the ones holding him up. "Take him back to his cell. If he dies, inform me, but have an effort made to see him sustained until I may speak with him."

"Yes, your Majesty," answered a voice, that of the guard that had slapped Evelyn. Rafe was right beside Ardeth, one of those holding him close. He had little hope of being kept alive if this man were to be in charge of him.

They were not gentle as they yanked him through the hall and away from Evelyn. He barely felt the trip down into the dungeon below the castle and considered almost every step of the way there that he would not make it until the cell door was scraped open and he was dropped onto the wooden cot inside. 

Queasy and hot, he eased himself to his side and worried for Evelyn, but even that could not last under his exhaustion. A mouse could have faced him down and he would have had to consider himself lucky if he were able to muster up a glare. Again the temptation to assure himself that it would not be long assailed him, but now he truly wasn't so sure. The blessing on him kept him alive well beyond what he thought he could have handled before. Perhaps he would live to see why Imhotep had allowed it.

~~~~~~~

Terrible visions of blood and brutality intruded upon her blessed escape from the cold. Her dark eyes snapped open and for a moment Evelyn struggled against the hands on her flesh, disoriented and frightened. But the other was stronger than she and determined to keep her subdued until she could bring herself back to reality. What was life doing to her, throwing her against what she had faced outside, only to have her expectation become untrue? Where was she now?

Evy backed against the porcelain bathtub she was in, she and her husbands in their private chambers, and remained still beneath Imhotep's watchful, dark eyes. They were shadowy and firm, offering little of his intentions as he regarded her. When he said nothing, she ventured to examine her situation more closely, aware that if she broke the silence he may hurt her in his potentially vengeful mindset.

The water surrounding her was just this side of warm and the tips of her hair drenched. Beside her he sat on a stool with his white sleeves pushed back and a rag in his hand, washing softly over her shoulder and arm. Imhotep had bathed with her here only a few nights ago as they spoke of the future to come, a future where she would help him learn the ways of this new world and govern it properly. A wife, not a slave. That had been a promise made through such deceptively caring eyes. Her jaw set as she realized just where she was and what her future would consist of now with this immortal being. She couldn't be here. Not back here, trapped with him again. She would rather die.

He remained quiet while she kept her eyes averted and tried to maintain calm, and for that she was thankful, but soon he spoke and the simple command jarred her enough to make her want to curl up and pretend he had never come into her life. "Stand up," he whispered gently and she obeyed, not sure she had the strength to fight anymore. A large towel was given her to dry with and she accepted quickly and without speaking. "You are very quiet," he observed, watching her set to drying her body with as little flesh shown as possible. "Have you nothing to say to me? Or do you cease to care?"

"What do you want to hear?" she breathed in a voice weakened by pain, a small sound that drew a mild cough. Evy sniffled and kept her eyes cast down.

Imhotep brought her chin up so she would look into his mild expression. "You are my wife," he told her, those fingers holding her face steady as she tried to look away. "So you shall remain and you _will_ obey me. The games are over." He gave her arm a meaningful squeeze, then swept her up and carried her into their bedroom.

Her husband drew back the wealth of silk sheets and coverings, and when she sank into the comfort, Evy gave a soft sigh in guilty thankfulness that she was not cold anymore. It made her sick to her stomach. How could she rightly enjoy this? Ardeth was probably dead in that little tomb, having frozen to death without her warmth to keep him comforted. Alone and hopeless. The survival imposed upon her filled her eyes with tears and she rolled to her side as Imhotep tended the fireplace across from the bed.

And then he stopped. She had watched him through watery eyes almost in bitter-absent fascination at the way her life was turning out, but when his hands replaced the poker and his dark eyes hit hers, she could not look at him. Not with that confused, lost look on his face. He would tell her he reacted harshly, that he had not meant to let his rash emotions take over so drastically, or that he was sorry or that she deserved it for betraying his heart. There would be some foolish justification, something that would ask her to forgive again and let him back into her good graces. _Never again_. Not if her life depended on it. As far as she herself was concerned, she was nothing but a slave to him. She didn't care what he did anymore, but she would be no wife, no friend and no ally.

So she closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the softness of her pillow. Her master exhaled and the rustle of his pants told her he was standing. She knew full well what would come next. The lesson of submission to a being stronger than she, the assertion of her place in his life as slave. One thing about her husband was he never let her down when she assumed the worst. Imhotep came close to her slowly with none of that suggestiveness before in his stance and when he sat on the bed, she stiffened on impulse, but searched herself for composure again. It didn't matter. Whatever he did, it was nothing new. He took an inward breath, held it a moment, then spoke what she did not think she would hear. "He lives."

More tears slid down onto her pillow for what that could mean for her love. She hugged it to her head and retorted, "So you can let him taste death another way? So you can let him hope for escape and crush it again and again? Or maybe this time you intend on letting him live so that I'll forgive you again. What will it be this time?"

"He asked me for mercy and I will give it." Imhotep's tone was hard, as cold as the outside hell she had been brought in from. "I gave him a warning, Nefertiri, that he did not obey. And so shall he get his just reward."

She almost choked on that. "_Just reward?_" issued through grit teeth and a sudden, hard stare to match his. "You don't know what he's done for this world! He deserves to die peacefully and go _back_ to his _just reward!_ And you? You deserve the curse I gave to you after you murdered my father!"

It had been the wrong thing to say and she knew that full well as she had let the words pass her lips. She wanted to goad him, wanted him to beat her until she died even, for in that would be escape and penance for all she had done in raising him and raising Ardeth. Imhotep's fingers locked roughly around her flesh as he forced her to her back and held her arms down to her sides. His dark eyes flared in anger as he leaned close to her ear. Under his immortal strength there was nothing she could do but endure as best she could. "You wish to know what the Hom-Dai is, Nefertiri? You spiteful, evil woman, do you not understand? I give him _compassion_ by sending him to the gods! I give him time with you that was never given me with Ancksunamun! Compassion that has never and _will_ _never_ be shown me! Do you not see?"

He looked down on her angrily, daring her to spit hateful words at him or make a demand. Which in turn raised her own anger at him, at this world and herself for allowing this to happen. "Compassion," she hissed, trying to twist her wrists from his grip. "No, I don't see! And I don't want to see! You're nothing but evil! A wolf trying to wear sheep's clothing, but it won't work anymore! I hate you!"

"You will hate, but you_ will _see," Imhotep breathed just as darkly, his eyes ever seeking for a reason he should strip them of whatever mercy he thought he was giving. "Your Ardeth Bay will suffer pain, but it will not last. He has the affection of the gods, of you and your companions and the hope of reincarnation or rest. I have no hope of these things, not in this year or in the years and ages to come. Do you know what it is to spend 3,000 years alone? Do you understand what it is to have every shred of who you are violated by darkness whether you wish it or not? Do you understand hating yourself and knowing that this will always be so? _ALWAYS, NEFERTIRI!_"

His shout caused her to jerk and shift beneath him, glaring at him for his darkness, but he would not be stayed by anger or fear. The king continued on in hostile tones. "In ten thousand years, no matter what good I do now to redeem myself, I shall still be untouched by change, by love and by hope! You know what it is to fear for your life, but you do not know what it is to fear for your eternity, to know you have no choice, that there is _nothing_ you may do to take yourself from the nightmare that never ends!"

Imhotep held to her another moment, then pulled away and Evelyn sat up against the headboard to remove as much proximity to him as she could. His tone evened and became weary as he glared. "Merciless am I? Deserving of eternal damnation? I have done evil, vile things, Nefertiri, but I save your love from my fate, a thing I could so easily do, just as you did to me. Your father killed wicked servants that dared his anger, killed innocent Hebrew _children_ for fear of losing his power. He violated countless female slaves and if you could have seen the shameful wounds Ancksunamun bore…" Imhotep trailed off, but kept his hot glare on her, spilling forth bitterness she had never seen so clearly before. "Think on the most humiliating, hopeless and pain filled vision of what could be done to you, Nefertiri, and imagine knowing you could never escape it even in death, while life and love and richness surround you, forever untouchable. That, my _beloved_ _wife_, is the Hom-Dai!"

She pulled her sheet up around her as he stood and headed for the door, trying to somehow make sense of all he had given her to absorb and to calm her frayed nerves. There was nothing she could say, no words she could even think to say to him or to soothe herself with. Her husband watched her struggle with comfort wearing cool eyes that neither asked for forgiveness, nor offered any for what he felt she had done. She didn't even know what she wanted him to say or do right now, or whether to be grateful to him that he seemed unwilling to perform this terrible curse on Ardeth. But she couldn't get past the frozen image of Ardeth on the floor, dying in a pool of his blood and snow, or the truth of what she was and would be for the remainder of her life. His words slapped her in the face with what his intentions were.

"You stole an eternity from me, Nefertiri. For that you _will_ pay the price I have set, the price of a lifetime at my side, living as my concubine. You will never love me, but that will not stop me from enjoying you while you are mine to have!"

The door slammed shut when he exited, jarring the walls and gifting the floor with the sudden fall of a vase of imported roses. Water from the shattered vase colored the floor darker and the flowers scattered, compelling her to her feet as if nothing were wrong. Maybe if she pretended that were so it would help her get through this. Still, her hands shook when she opened the top drawer of her dresser to retrieve a nightgown. She avoided the roses.

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Henceforth I will be replying to people who flame with movie quotes to keep myself entertained. :-D

**A/A/N:** I've tagged a thank-you to reviewers of When The World Ends down there, or if you reviewed last chapter of Speak Softly as well, it will be in your usual place below. :-D

**To Reviewers**:

**Marxbros** – Hey! Wow, Bolivia, eh? What do you do that lets you travel like that??? Where I can sign up? ;-) Thanks! I hadn't expected to see you for another few weeks, so this was a very pleasant surprise. Thank you very much! I'm pleased you liked it! :-D

**Mommints** – Hate me? :-O What does "merde" mean?? Hehehe. Anyhoo, thanks for dropping by and offering your thoughts! Glad you're enjoying! :-D Glad you've got some stuff cooking for us to read as well! :-D Also, thank you for reviewing When The World Ends. I guess I find those two ideas somewhat daunting because they require a good amount of choreography, so to speak. I'm not an expert of fighting, nor sex so I can but hope to get it all right.

**Well Duh** – Hehehe..aye, issues. ;-) Thanks! :-D

**Zarah** – Wow! I never knew anyone had the name Celestine for real? Does she pronounce it "Selestine" or "Kelestine"? I'm going to assume with an "s" so maybe so you won't associate the names I'll tell you I usually think of my character as "Kelestine", after the way the Elves pronounce the prefix "Cele" on LOTR. ;-) But then, maybe that's how yer friend does…so now yer all, "Doh!" ;-) At any rate, thanks for the review and the email! I'm very happy you're enjoying, my friend! Anyway, thanks also for reviewing When The World Ends…glad you liked that…I might try something again in the future. Hmm.

**Lady of Light** – I'd like to share a revelation that I've had, during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species. I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to an area, and you multiply, and multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet, you are a plague, and we are the cure.

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thanks! I'm happy you like! :-D Congrats on finishing The Unfortunate Amulet! That was a great story! :-D

**Serena** – Hmm…we'll have to see on that trial thing being for naught. ;-) Thanks for taking the time to review!

**Marcher** – Hehehe...good, I like making people feel bad for Immy even when he's being a complete jerk. :-D Muahahaha! Thanks for the review on this and on When The World Ends…glad you liked both. ;-) WTWE didn't come from a dream, unfortunately…just my imagination. Lol. Would that I could dream like that. ;-) Woo!

**Deana** – Hehehe…cold bad. ;-) Thanks for reviewing this and When The World Ends, my friend! Glad you're enjoying! :-D Means a bunch!

**_When The World Ends_** reviewers not above: please note, **Tolkien Freak** and I have since come to somewhat of an understanding via email, she explained her reasons and I explained mine, so that's all water under the bridge. No worries here, nor there I think. :-\

**Aiyana Torres** – Thanks, my friend! Glad you liked this piece. :-D You're very kind to say so. :-D You rock as well, so I'm looking forward always to more of your Voyager stories!! ;-) Maybe someday in a galaxy far far away your alternate universe persona will write a Mummy piece about Ancksunamun? ;-)

**Bachy A** – Thanks! I appreciate the support! Glad you could read even if it wasn't one of your favored pairings. :-)

**Imhoteps Lover** – Thank you as well for your support, it means a bunch! I'm sorry you got flamed, but I'm glad you're back. Some people have reasons for their mean words and some people are just braindead. Bleh. Keep writing!

**Tolkien Freak** – Thanks anyway for your time and for being able to talk with me over email.

**Patty** – Thanks!! :-D I may or may not continue with WTWE. :-\ hmmm. I have a plot idea…but just not sure I'll have the time yet. Hmm. Thanks!

**Kathy** – Thankie! Glad you liked it. I'd love to lose to Ardeth that way myself. ;-) Thanks for the review!


	34. Beginning of the End

**Speak Softly**  
The Beginning of the End

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

"Well…hell."

Rick lay flat on his stomach across the top of a sand dune, watching the city and muttering dark obscenities beneath his breath. A cooling breeze swept over his dirt-dusted and possibly unattractively scented body, tempting him with calm and softness. But it wasn't enough to sweep away what lay before them. This might not turn out to be one of his easier nights if Jorin betrayed him and what really got him, what really clenched the disquiet within and made his teeth grit was that stupid song that wouldn't leave him a moment's peace. O'Connell shot a decidedly off little look down the dune at his partner in crime, cursing that lovely voice for singing the other day, of all things, the chorus of _'Cheek to Cheek'_. Even now she hummed it every so often because she knew, _she_** _knew _**_and took advantage _of the fact that it got to him.

But at least they were safe and that he was thankful for. Hughes had missed them, giving them a fair shot away from his little home and on into the desert. That was not to say there had been no close calls. Patrols had been sighted in the distance and the girl's current state of health hadn't helped when it came to running, but they had actually made it. Perhaps from the pot into the fire, but it was an accomplishment Rick was proud to be a part of. Reyhanen had certainly helped for her part as well. She was smart, if a little reckless, and knew how to listen keenly and had a fair intuition for when to stay still and when to attempt a run.

During quiet moments like these he often allowed himself to imagine up a past for her that would explain away these qualities too, for that was something she was not very talkative about. Very interested in learning about him, hearing stories of his past and sharing talks in the dark when they rested in the black open desert, but evasive when it came to her own stories. She was a vixen and mystery, one he fully intended to unravel one way or another. 

Reyhanen peered up from tending her wounded leg, caught his stare and smiled. Her rich voice was matter-of-fact and teasing. "Do you have a problem, O'Connell?"

He left the city alone, crawled back in the sand until he was level with the lovely maid and exhaled his frustration. "It's not going to be easy, sneaking into that city. I only saw a few, but I can just about guarantee Jorin's men are crawling all over the place." The fading light of an evening passing into dusk obscured much, but where he saw a few he knew there was bound to be more keeping an eye out for him and possibly Jonathan as well. Rick scratched through the new stubble on his jaw and looked his pretty companion over, suggesting, "I could leave you here. Go see if I can't find Jonathan by myself and return when I'm sure it's safe."

The woman shook her head, rubbing near her pained leg. He could tell by the light in her dark eyes that she wasn't going to go for it. "I'll be safer with you. If those men know we're out here and see you leave me alone, they might get curious and that is not the sort of attention I would enjoy." A smile found her full lips, barely seen in the dark, but just enough to make him mirror it. "I'm not overly fond of killing, understand."

It sounded like a joke, but with her Rick could only guess how much of a grain of truth might be in that statement. He leaned back on his elbows and inhaled the clean air, unwilling to fight her on this and sure she was probably the wiser anyway. "Okay. We'll take our chances together, then. But I'll warn you, Jorin makes his money by selling pretty girls like yourself. You might have done better staying back with your former employer."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "I trust you completely. I know we'll be all right."

"You're giving me a hell of a lot of credit, lady."

Reyhanen gave him one of _those_ smiles. That sweet little grin Evy sometimes had worn when he was 'being cute'. God, he missed her so much it hurt sometimes. All alike, they were and the more wily ones could pull his strings just right if he wasn't careful to watch for it. _Women_, he thought wryly as he indulged her with a raised eyebrow. But she said nothing of what amused her. "Shall we go, Rick?"

He nodded softly and held out a hand to his companion, breathing his answer as he wondered how Evy was just now. "Yeah."

~~~~~~~

Days had gone by and still he offered nothing in the way of what he wanted or why they were here. Jonathan assumed perhaps he was being held here for some reason tying in to Rick, though Jorin gave him little reason to believe that either way. In fact he could be here for the sole purpose of being sold as a slave or to critique his taste in art for all he was revealing. Jonathan kicked his feet up on the coffee table centered to the leather couch he was lounging on in the guest quarters he shared with the tykes.

At a small, round table nearby Kaysaan looked at him over a glass of milk, studying him intently as he sometimes did, so he resolved to put a good face on his confusion and concerns. Everything was under control. Jorin's control, but control none the less. He exhaled and looked for little Sania, for it was she he worried about most. She was really quiet and shied away from Jorin whenever he dropped by, after all, this was the man they were all warned about and feared. A local horror story brought to real life before her eyes.

Then there was Jorin's interest in Evy, too. That concerned Jonathan a great deal because he knew the criminal's business was of the dirty variety. Why did he care to mention his sister or give him slack because he happened to be related to her? Surely he knew that there was nothing Jonathan would do to put her in danger and even if he were so unscrupulous and uncaring there was another thing standing in the way of anyone ever dreaming of obtaining Evy and that was Imhotep. Driven by love Jonathan and their little circle of family had enough trouble with getting her away from him.

He sighed and fidgeted with his sleeve, thinking of his poor baby sister. Jorin _had_ told him one thing and that was that his sister was now a married woman. It had been announced over the radio that 'the Great King Imhotep had taken a bride' and 'the world would now call Nefertiri its queen'. _Poor little thing,_ he thought sadly. _She must be devastated._ He didn't even know where she was.

A knock pulled him out of his brooding. Sania came out of hiding when the door opened, having stuffed herself into a large chair with a blanket over her head. The little girl snuggled up beside him, leaned back into the cushion and watched as the intruder entered. It was the black mercenary that had helped them. He narrowed his brow, but before he could speak a rebuke or anything of the sort, Jonathan chuckled and said, "I see you didn't get shot."

The thin man crossed his arms testily. "Right, well, I'm in a good enough pinch as it is. Cost me a clean five hundred pounds, that information I gave you. Jorin's making me pay every cent of it. If I run away, _then_ I'll get shot. Anyway, Jorin wants to see you in his office. You can bring the little ones."

"Who's a little one?" Kay said indignantly, wiping his milk mustache off on his sleeve. "What's that jackass want with us, anyhow?"

Jonathan eyed the boy with an unenthusiastic expression. The mercenary grinned fondly and nodded towards him. "Reminds me of me when I a little one."

Kaysaan stuck his tongue out. "Yeah, thanks for the warning." Sania giggled and got up from her seat when Kay offered his hand to protect her, a promise he had made the first night here when she refused to go to sleep for fear of being taken away.

Jonathan pulled himself from the couch, straightened his jacket and fixed his gaze on the mercenary. "Lead away, then. I don't suppose you know what this is all about?"

"Not a clue and I wouldn't tell you if I did," was the reply as they headed out into the hallway. At least the mercenary was alive. That spoke something of Jorin, of a possibility that he was reasonable enough to give them a break.

When they reached well-guarded office he saw that it was even more pleasant than the guestrooms and halls, rich in colors of black, white and tan. Behind an oak desk sat the mastermind himself, looking smug, and Jonathan smirked at the ridiculous display. The mercenary took on a chair nearby and made faces with Kaysaan while Carnahan stepped on up to the plate. "I take it you're finally going to let us in on why you're holding us here?"

Jorin smiled and leaned back in his chair. "That's such an ugly term. 'Holding'. Let us say instead I urge you to stay."

Taking a chair across the desk, Carnahan nodded. He would have backed down at that, he knew. He would have been lavish with his apologies, but he felt he had been pushed far enough this time. "Right, as I was saying, the reason you're holding us here?"

The criminal was unimpressed and watched him for a long, uncomfortable moment. _Perhaps I'm laying it on a little thick,_ Jonathan admitted to himself with a nervous sigh. "We are getting off on the wrong foot," Jorin announced after he had come to whatever assumption about Jonathan's character he had been formulating. "Come, do not take this as a threat, Mr. Carnahan. I bring you here out of friendship. Rick O'Connell is on his way here right now, I was told and I merely wish to reunite two friends."

"O'Connell?" the mercenary cut in, startled. "_Rick_ _O'Connell_ is coming here?"

Jorin gave him a firm look and the question was withdrawn, but he conceded to allow the mercenary an answer. "Perhaps I am reuniting more than one old friend at that. Yes, Rick O'Connell approaches. He was seen on the horizon and could very well be entering this building as we speak. He has a woman with him."

Jonathan sat forward, his interest perked. "A woman? Evy?"

"That was not known, but I highly doubt it considering how recent her marriage was announced," the criminal boss replied mildly. That interest in his eyes sparked again and Jonathan frowned noticeably. Jorin narrowed his brow. "You seem to have a problem with me, Mr. Carnahan. I have offended you somehow, by giving you a comfortable room?"

Shaking his head, Jonathan let his frown deepen. "No, you've offended me by taking this poor little girl's mother and selling her like some sort of commodity! Not to mention her other daughter! Only God knows what situation you've put them in, but I _do_ intend to get them out of it!"

A few tense moments passed before the criminal answered to that, cool and calculated. "And would you have such venom for me had it been someone else? I assure you it was nothing personal. She was not harmed by any of my men and…"

A knock cut them off with the sound of a familiar voice, aggravated and tired. A smile spread across the criminal's lips as he called for the door to be opened. "All right," O'Connell said as he entered and Jonathan turned around in his chair in relief. "I got your…Jonathan?" His smirk died into surprise and relief.

"I'd watch who you're selling me off to, O'Connell," Carnahan greeted, shaking his friend's hand and watching a limping woman enter behind, unobtrusively seeking a seat by the children. She was quite attractive, but though logic had warned him of this his heart sank that it wasn't Evy and he wondered if Rick knew the terrible news. If he didn't know he would probably blow a gasket when he was told. Jonathan decided to feign ignorance until a proper moment presented itself, say when Rick was behind bars somewhere. 

Rick gave the slaver a knowing little look. "I see Jorin's kept you in one piece. Good for him. Had me worried there for a little while."

Another voice entered the fray before Jorin could reply. "O'Connell, you stupid son of trollop! I ought to have my boss here set his boys on you!"

Rick's surprised expression returned as he looked for the person matching the miffed, if a touch nostalgic, voice. He suddenly grinned at another familiar face. "Izzy? What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Getting swindled by your friend and his two brats, that's what!" Izzy retorted hotly. "I might have known a person like him would have dealings with you!"

O'Connell shrugged smoothly. "What can I say, Iz? It's a gift, being popular." Jonathan, the mercenary _and_ the strange woman all rolled their eyes, the latter perking Carnahan's interest in just who she was. Ignoring it all Rick reached into his pocket, removed an item and tossed it at Jorin. "A gift, with the help of my lovely friend back there. Hope you don't mind me bringing her here and oh, if you touch her, Jorin, I'll kill you. A couple times if I can find the Black Book again."

The criminal waved an apathetic hand at the mutterings around the room, forgetting everything around him and immersing himself in what Rick had obtained. Jonathan widened his eyes when he realized what it was. "Th-the Key!"

"Yep," O'Connell agreed, patting his pockets out of habit only to come back empty. "So, Jorin, about that preoccupation with history. That's a pretty important part of it, wouldn't you say?"

Jorin looked up in genuine pleasure. "One might see it that way." His brow narrowed, but the carefree expression remained as if he were amused. "My men who saw you coming said you were being a little secretive about your movements. Keeping to the darkness and watching your back. You weren't planning on spiriting your friend away and taking my Key with you, were you?"

Rick nodded without a beat. "Actually, that _was_ what I was planning on doing. I don't exactly trust you. One of your lackeys has a broken nose for manhandling Reyhanen over there, by the way. I'm sure he'll come whine about it later, but I wanted you to know from me why I hit him. So, what's the deal, anyway? What happens now that you have what you want? You said something about paying me?"

"Ah, but I don't have everything I want, my friend," Jorin replied with a glint in his dark eyes. "I mentioned having another job for you and I think I trust my instincts regarding you and yours. But my type of business offends Jonathan, here. It seems I've sold a few of his friends. I, of course, cannot rectify this other than passing along their locations, but I do apologize. It was my hope to count you as friends."

O'Connell noticed and waved down Jonathan's sudden need to speak. "So why don't you start by being honest about why you want the Key?" he replied, taking a seat on his desk. The criminal took no offense at the higher position Rick was placing himself in and even smiled again.

He nodded thoughtfully after weighing the options. "Very well. But in that is the next job offer I intend to make. You see I want the Book of Amun Ra. I was not entirely honest with you about my opinion of Imhotep before, Rick. In truth, before I could not care less about our little king, but let us say I have certain reasons now to want revenge on him. My reasons are my own, but you and I strive for the same goal. His ultimate and hopefully painful destruction."

"Okay," the ex-Legionnaire breathed. "Give me the Key, I'll get the Book and kill him myself."

Jorin nodded with a thoughtful smile. "Ah, but this would require trust on my part." His tapped his fingers on the desk as he looked them all over in hopeful uncertainty. "I worked very hard to learn who had that Key and invested a lot of money into seeing this secret goal of mine come to fruition. And neither do _you_ trust _me_. We are at a difficult stage in our relationship, but if we both want Imhotep dead I think we can manage so precarious a marriage of skills. I have men that are loyal, men that can guard the Key. You have a certain knack for good luck concerning Imhotep."

Jonathan shook his head, not wanting to put trust into this man. Something about him warned him off and he wasn't going to forget what kind of person Jorin was. "So, what is it that you want?" he asked in a clipped tone.

The kingpin shrugged. "Nothing right now. I will keep the Key, of course. You may leave this town at will and enter without fear. All I want is an open door. I do not yet know where the Book of Amun Ra is, but should I discover its location I would like to know we can negotiate the possibility of pooling our resources."

"Yeah, and keeping your nose clean," Rick added with a smirk.

"My arrangements are not without their bonuses." Jorin pushed his chair back and stood up, extending his hand. "Think on it. Your room is still available, Mr. O'Connell. With a bed big enough for two, I believe." He motioned to the wide-eyed companion of Rick's. "I will have someone who is not so insensitive as to put his hands where they do not belong see to your lady."

Rick looked uncomfortable with these unexpected developments, making Jonathan wonder what conversation had taken place before he had left. They certainly had much to catch up on. "Yeah," O'Connell said a little warily, nodding his head and brushing his suspicions aside for the moment. "I'd appreciate that. I'll think about it, Jorin, and after a little discussion between friends we can talk."

"Of course, of course." The criminal offered a smile and a glance down at the still seated Carnahan. "But I was hoping I could talk to Jonathan here for few moments, if that's all right. An unrelated matter, understand. Please, take advantage of my hospitality. My city is yours."

Jonathan was about to protest, but a look from Rick stopped the words on his lips. He frowned at the presense of this man, but decided to endure it anyway, hoping for information on Layla if nothing else. "Rick, take the kids, would you?"

Kay stepped right up with feasting eyes on O'Connell's lady friend, pulling a shy Sania behind and Rick looked down at them uncertainly. The little girl graced him with the beginnings of a crushy smile and even spoke to him. "You make Jonathan carry your bottle?" His friend shot him a flat look.

"I don't think Rick's your type," Carnahan affirmed quiet seriously, motioning the brood on with another pleading look at O'Connell. "Go with this man. He's nice…most of the time anyway." Sania blushed deeply and hid behind Kay when the ex-Legionnaire flashed her a winning smile as his mercenary friend opened the door to be rushed by scurrying children.

Once the group herded out Jonathan exhaled in irritation and turned back to their oh-so-witty host. Jorin looked on him with unconcealed interest in his dark gaze, which increased the uneasiness in him. He could feel time eating away at him, whispering of the things Layla might be suffering all because this man wanted to make a little money. "Well, what do you want?" he asked testily and the criminal smiled.

"To talk, my friend. About your friends that I sold and about something else that's been on my mind. My dreams. Tell me, what do you know of Pharaoh Seti I?"

~~~~~~~

He heard pacing outside of his cell—had heard it for the past five minutes, but had not taken the trouble to open his eyes and see what it was that Imhotep wanted. The priest was still very angry, viciously angry, but calm enough to act on thought rather than impulse. Something inside of him was still trying to be good and human despite all the darkness he wanted to let fill him. And Ardeth wondered why. He did not begrudge this evil creature's want to try, but why should he care to? "I do not know." His voice was hard, bitter and exhausted. Imhotep exhaled and stopped somewhere before the cell. "What do I know of goodness and purity, Ardeth Bay? You are right. Why should I try?"

Ardeth opened his eyes and lifted tired lids enough to look at his enemy. He lay curled up on his bunk still, feeling battered and broken. Sweat and blood covered him, but still he found courage to speak to this insane being what he believed to be true. "Because you want to know if you truly are as hopeless as you believe."

Keys jingled as Imhotep pulled them from his pants pocket and unlocked the cell door. He entered and on him Ardeth saw the evidence of his treating Evy from the cold. His own blood, passed to Evy from him, now covered the front of the king's fine white shirt, his sleeves were pushed up and his expression was lost and furious. "I will kill you for disobeying my command," he stated simply. _Do you still believe I have hope?_ The thought was filled with sarcasm. He wanted to give in to the dark, Ardeth realized. Wanted to lose himself again and be free of pain.

Ardeth tensed as Imhotep approached him, but held his own, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop the priest if he so desired to torment him. "Kill me if you must, but I believe as long as you care you will always have hope." The priest's eyes narrowed in contempt, as if he thought he were being toyed with. Still, Bay continued, treading a thin line. "You never intended to hurt her this badly, did you? You know she cared for you somewhere inside and now that's gone and you regret it."

"I regret it." Imhotep knelt down before him, watched him with a cocked head and knit brows. This was not the face of a monster anymore, but of a man driven to the brink of pure evil. A man that might be able to save himself if he could get past his petty pride. If he had the strength to conquer himself. "Yet she will hate me now without ceasing. And the fact remains that you both disobeyed your king. I will not allow either of you to hide from punishment, just as I could not hide. You shall die and she shall fulfill her duty as wife. You know you can do nothing to stop this. You know I will not change my mind."

It was true. He could sense the need for justice covering all of the creature's thoughts and desires. Ardeth exhaled and nodded, closing his eyes. "But you will be merciful to her. You will not hurt her as you wish you could. You will never let go of that humanity that keeps you from total destruction."

Imhotep grunted and reached for him, causing Ardeth to startle at the sudden contact on his arm. He opened his eyes into the face of rage and age old resent. "No, I will not hurt her again. Nor will I allow her to hurt me."

The priest stared at him with that intention glaring through his dark eyes and Ardeth doubted not that Imhotep would hold to his demands and hold Evelyn prisoner for the rest of her life. Ardeth feared for Evy in that, for even if he never brutalized her, the life of a slave would kill her even still. And he could not fight the deep well of sorrow inside that came from that thought. He would not be here to save her from it. And Imhotep reveled in this pain that he called retribution as he began to chant, to share his life once more, enough to help the blessing prolong his enemy's life. _Just_ enough. This time Ardeth's wounds did not disappear nor the heaviness in his chest abate, but his blood was strengthened enough to stop the impending death that loomed over him. He felt himself loosed from the grasp of heaven's embrace once more.

Ardeth closed his eyes as darkness swirled again through him, filling him with its sickly sweetness. Another part of the curse tainted his being. He wanted death in that moment, wanted to escape the helplessness of the Hom-Dai touching him, but he drew hope in that another part of the blessing had become part of Imhotep as well. If it could keep him from becoming consumed with evil, it could save Evelyn from more torment than she was already doomed to endure. His violation was well worth the price for her safety.

The creature let him go. "You asked me for mercy on her and for her I freely give it because I have the means. That is the mercy I give to you both, that she is taken care of and has a proper life. Understand, however, that I will not extend this mercy to you beyond the trip to Egypt. I warned you to stay away and you failed. Therefore you will die. The gift that I give you is time, a thing I was not allowed before my price was set and forced upon me. When we reach the Field of the Med-Jai, we shall see if the necromancer was correct in his assumption that nothing could kill you but your own hand."

Bay coughed and remained still, fighting the fresh darkness and the weariness his oncoming sickness from the cold brought. "You know she will never love you," he spoke into the shadows as Imhotep rose to his feet and began to leave. He knew what Ardeth was getting at, what the Med-Jai wanted know. Whether or not this would matter to him. Whether or not this came from selfish desire or true compassion. Imhotep stopped at the cell door and turned with neutral eyes.

"I know."

~~~~~~~

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Nashean, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania, Reyhanen and Celestine (and a few dead/less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: Sorry this has been a while! Been caught up in writing a Matrix fic. *swoon* Love my Agent Smith! ;-)

**To Reviewers**:

**Marcher** – _There's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad._ ;-) Sorry, had to do that after your email. Hehehe! Thanks, my friend! Hehehe…aye, I aim to confuse. ;-) I'm happy you're enjoying this! :-D As for what will bring Immy down, who knows? ;-) I'm still in the process of wondering myself. *scratches head*

**Wildcardgal** – Yikes! You flatter me! *blush* Thank you! :-D I'm happy you like this. Thank you also for reviews on Bloodlines and When The World Ends. Glad you enjoyed. :-)

**Imhoteps** **Lover** – Thanks! Glad you're enjoying! :-D Hope you continue to whenever you catch up! :-D

**Deana** – Aye, cold baaad. ;-) I'd WANT to die…really badly. :-D Hehehe. Thanks, my friend!

**Dead-Girls-Watch** – Thank you, my friend. :-) I'm gratified to have my friends follow this as you do. Means a bunch! Hope to read another great by you soon!

**Zarah** – Wow, lotsa Celestine's where you are, eh? Kewl! Hehehe…as for Immy, yeah…a spanking. ;-) *gets gleam in eye* :-D That wasn't out loud. Thank you very much for the reviews. It means a bunch!! :-D****

**Lady of Light** – I'm not trying to convey morals or tell everyone my personal beliefs. I fully realize women have guts, but tell me, what do you think Evy is supposed to be doing? She is with an immortal being that is physically stronger than any man on earth and it is a fact that most of the male variety are in fact physically stronger. What is she supposed to do against him, exactly? She supposed to catch Imhotep unaware and beat him up, then beat up all the jackals and run? She escaped once and is repeatedly mouthy to Imhotep…but hey, if that's wimpy to you what can I say? I don't think it's that unreal for a woman who's been abused for _two years_ by an individual who kills innocents and has supernatural abilities and strengths to show fear. You say she was tough in Mummy and she was, but that doesn't mean she wasn't afraid. Look at her face when those zombiefied townsfolk are chasing the car. Look at her when she awakens to find Imhotep holding her and kissing her. For pete's sake, she whimpered when she saw a rat on Anck beside her. And in TMR look at her face when she sees Imhotep awaken. That's fear. Does it make her weak? No, I don't think so. I think it makes her realistic. Think also of the time period in which she lives. Women back then weren't watching Roseanne or learning that hey, we don't have to put up with men's crap. They hadn't broken that far into equality…I mean in the 50's women were still doting little housewives and I'm not saying that this is how women should be treated or should allow themselves to be treated, but I'm not going to make her into something of today if it doesn't call for it. I'm not sure what else I can say except if you don't like it, you don't have to read it. I'm not gonna argue over reviews/chapters about this. You can keep reviewing if you want, it adds to my review count, but I will not sit here and yap across the fence about this. Why didn't I portray her as a feminist? Because I chose not to._ Is the Protagonist going to defeat the antagonist or vise versa soon? _I can't say, as it would be giving away the plot. I take it you wouldn't be here for a sequel? ;-)


	35. Who's Got My Back Now?

**Speak Softly**  
Who's Got My Back Now?

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

There had been no rescue this time. Time, their gift, had been given with Evy's daily visits to his cell, a few hours each day spent together talking, holding hands and sharing kisses through the bars that separated them. He could have lived that way forever if time would stand still and leave them in England. But the day had come when Imhotep was ready to return to his homeland. In the lower decks of the boat Ardeth had spent his lonely hours thinking about his short span of life with Evelyn and what he ultimately would leave undone. He had turned to acceptance of what he could not change. And time faded with the days.

Time had been given them as well as hardship from their sovereign. Imhotep burned his anger slowly and tended its fires with help from an unforgiving Evelyn, who could not find it in her heart to care anymore what he did. The king never talked to Ardeth, never saw about him and kept his mind closed like a sealed sarcophagus, but Evy told him what went on above him. The blessing had changed Imhotep for the better, but her betrayal for the worse, so much so that Ardeth wondered if the blessing had only served to increase the rage inside.

He could not blame Evy for her inability to forgive, but feared all the same that it would only serve to hurt her further. The situation was tense between she and her husband, and didn't seem as though it would decrease anytime soon. Imhotep held true to his want for her to live as his wife and she paid her bargain, but not without distance and bitterness, which only increased Imhotep's drive to break her and hurt her for the hurt she caused him. They lived in a vicious circle that Ardeth could not be here to stop from spinning out of control.

And he feared for her life, for he was sure in some fashion Necromancer's threat or foresight would try to manifest, and while death could be so easily a gift to Evy, Ardeth wanted her to live. He wanted her to find Rick and Jonathan, made her promise this to him during their first visit since the freezing cold. He could tell it was a promise she did not want to keep, but he had to hope for her. He had to believe something good could come from her living.

When the car stopped, the Med-Jai inside did not move. Nor did he open his eyes to take in what he would see momentarily. He was too tired to care until the last moment. And he had been here once before. He knew all too well what would greet his eyes when he stepped from this vehicle to accept his fate. The sight was hurtful and discouraging, his people laid out in shame, and there was no reason to burden himself with it until the time came. So he remained, his head against the seat and his heart in the car ahead where his enemy was.

Ardeth coughed and tried to brush aside his weariness so he could prepare himself for what was going to happen now. The gift had run its course. Outside the sound of car doors slamming jarred him, but mercifully they did not come for him yet. For that he was thankful. Fighting the urge to look outside, knowing it wouldn't matter—whatever he saw, he leaned his head back and tried to rest a little before the darkness came. Ardeth did not fear death, nor fear for the future of this world anymore—but for the sake of Evelyn, for he had come to accept that whatever would happen, would happen. He had been brought back for a reason and if his time had come, then that reason must be complete. Ancksunamun had seen Imhotep's death by his hands, but dreams were not always what they seemed to be. Perhaps death meant something else.

He had given Imhotep a solid conscience and in that would hopefully come about the death of the man the priest had become. There was a change there inside him; a single, small seed that strove to find the light of day and Ardeth had planted that with his gift to Imhotep. Perhaps that was the death Ancksunamun had seen and feared.

But when the car door opened, he could not suppress a momentary sorrow at what lay ahead. Task completed or not, he still mourned the life he would not have with Evelyn. They had been given a mere moment in their entire lives to love each other. Just one brief time of softness. But he would take what was given to him gratefully and without resentment.

A wan smile met his lips when he saw that it was not Imhotep, but Evy who had opened the door and who now entered to sit beside him. Her small hands found his bound wrists and pulled a hand up to her mouth to kiss. "He's having stakes put up," she told him, her voice thick and her eyes moist. This was so hard for her. So very hard.

"You'll be strong?" he asked her in reply, not really needing to know, but wanting to remind her of what he wanted her to fight for. She would go on, survive and emerge from this a beautiful creation, molded and stronger if fate would spare her Necromancer's threat. It was going to be a rough road, but he knew she could travel it. Evy nodded and he grasped her cheek, searing every detail of her face into his memory to carry with him to the other side. He could see she did the same and that promise of love was more than he thought he could part with. But he had to…he knew that. Now he was ready to say the one thing he had waited for. Now he could let her go. "Evelyn, when you find Rick…" Her tears fell when his eyes became grave. "He'll take good care of you."

Evelyn couldn't say anything to that and he knew why. He wanted so badly to be the one to love her and receive that love reflected back in her glassy eyes, but could his spirit cling to this plain of existence against the will of God? He would go back to heaven and she would go on. That was enough. It would have to be.

Their time was growing short and both of them knew it. Evelyn leaned into him and placed her lips against his for one last kiss, whispering, "I do love you. So much, Ardeth. So very much." His brow furrowed against hers and he closed his eyes to hide his failing resolve. _Please don't make me leave_, he prayed. He would have done anything to stay. But he couldn't even stay long enough to finish their final kiss. The door on his side opened and a clawed hand reached for him, dragging him from their good-bye.

Ardeth was yanked from the car and immediately pulled carelessly through the sand to where Imhotep would kill him. Evelyn raced from the car, shouting in a tearful voice, "Stop it! You're hurting him! Please!"

But the king said nothing. He wouldn't offer his enemy any last mercies. The posts for the last Med-Jai were erected separate from the others, a place singled out and Imhotep stood where Ardeth would have termed behind it, mixed with the dead, with eyes watching through an empty, hard stare. His robes shifted with the breeze, the only movement offered from his stance until Evelyn threw herself down at his feet in a pleading gesture. Only then did he tear his eyes away for a moment to look down on her with that same frightening emptiness. 

The jackals shoved Ardeth down into the sand roughly and he quickly realized that Imhotep meant more than to just leave him to die in the field where his people were. He meant for him to die with their suffering the last thing he looked upon, for instead of being faced towards the palace, Ardeth was positioned inward towards the countless Med-Jai.

His arms were lifted and bound with shackles, and Evy's eyes widened at something behind him that he could not see. "Please, Imhotep," she begged, grasping his dark pants with pale hands. "Please have mercy. I'll do anything."

Imhotep's eyes never left the face of his enemy, his expression did not change and he offered nothing to his wife in reply. Ardeth soon learned what had panicked her when a metal rod suddenly found his back, cracking against his fevered flesh and winning a cry of pain and surprise. Death wasn't enough. Death with a nightmarish vision could not satiate Imhotep's reawakened thirst for pain. Torment would be added and Ardeth felt through the sudden haze in his mind that the priest wanted to hear him to scream in agony for his crime. He couldn't give in to this. He had to remain strong.

Evy watched this, her eyes filled with sadness and water. _Look away_, he thought to her, knowing she would never hear and knowing that if he spoke, his voice may break under the strain. The rod slammed into him again, causing him to jerk in his chains and draw blood from biting his shouts back. The ache throbbed through him. In a mocking reply to his want that Evy not watch, the priest knelt down and reached for his wife. He yanked her into his arms. 

Ardeth's heart sank when Imhotep made her face what was happening. The queen closed her eyes, but any hope of her being able to hide from this was dashed when her husband breathed darkly with petting hands, "Watch him, Nefertiri. If you take your eyes off of him I will punish you right here in front of him. Do you want your lover to carry that with him in death?" He jerked her when she failed to reply and with fearful, dark eyes Evy forced herself to look on with a shake of her head. Perhaps the light would never find this man again. The rod hit him again and Ardeth arched in pain, straining his wrists within the cuffs until he fell limp in their hold in exhaustion.

Now with her watching he knew _had_ to be strong for her at all costs. She had to see the hope in his eyes, had to go on believing somewhere inside that dying heart of hers that she could find peace again. But staying silent in this was easier conceived than acted upon. The rod slammed into his back a few more bruising times and each hit brought him closer to another coughing fit, to issuing cries of helpless pain. It couldn't be helped. He couldn't stop it. Evy moaned in despair when he gave into the need and let his body respond to the stress caused by sickness. His chest and throat hurt with the pressure of coughing and he was unable to catch his breath as his final torment continued mercilessly, but that pain was nothing compared to the sound of her crying. It was more than just tears, it was voice given to grief and gasps for stolen air as if she were the one being beaten. It resounded through his ears and made the terror of what was happening worse.

Tightening his fists with another cutting blow, Ardeth opened his tired eyes and groaned, needing to do more than stay quiet. Evelyn's shivering form was caged within Imhotep's embrace, her eyes wide and horrified as she watched him suffer. Imhotep glared over her shoulder heartlessly, but the ill intent coming from him would not weaken the Med-Jai. He was brave and resolved. Pouring his strength through his dark-eyed gaze, Ardeth held Evy's locked through another blow, which called to him another weak groan that nearly turned into a scream with another quick hit before he could regain control. His breathing came fast and hard-pressed.

"All you must do, Ardeth Bay, is ask me to stop it. You already bow to me," the pharaoh suggested coolly.

Ardeth closed his eyes after that, needing to find a place inside him to concentrate. He would not scream. He would not ask for this to stop. The rod hit him again and Imhotep willed evil thoughts to him, telling him he could not make it, that he would fail as he had before. The king watched in interest through another hit and another, each causing Ardeth to tremble in need to give in and ask for it to end. But he could not, not this time. Not when she needed to know his resolve against letting Imhotep win.

Imhotep grew tired of the game when he realized he would win no shout or begging from his enemy. The beating was called to an end and Evy was shoved away. She fell to the sand and covered her mouth to hold her voice back as her grief came with unstoppable force. Ardeth panted for air and gazed up fuzzily, almost too tired now to think straight. Sweat trickled down his body and he coughed weakly, trying to look at her, wanting so much to wrap himself into her comfort and give of his own love. How had it come to this? How had life led them to each other and to this terrible fate? It felt like he was about to awaken from a nightmare. Through his scattered thoughts Bay saw Imhotep turn away from his queen towards another post to unlock it. "Evy," he groaned, wishing her strength. The terror was over for him, but would continue for her until Rick saved her. She needed hope.

Evy lifted her face from her hands and shared his gaze sadly as if she had heard his thoughts and knew she could not fulfill that request, but there was a promise there she had made to try despite all odds. The bones of a fallen Med-Jai hit the ground with a clatter and flying dust. Imhotep roughly took her wrists and dragged her through the sand between the now vacant posts. _What are you doing?_ Ardeth asked through his link, not trusting himself to speak through a sore, dry throat.

"Imhotep?" Evy asked in a ragged voice as her wrists were locked down. Her question was met with a vicious slap that snapped her head to the side. Ardeth tightened his fists, but had no strength left to struggle.

The priest stood back and looked between them, ignoring their questions. Seven jackals stood nearby and it was they whom he addressed, issuing a dark command as he stalked away. "Watch over them and when he dies, bring her to the palace." _She will watch you die so she understands what will happen if she betrays me again._ The coldness in both his spoken voice and his mental one made Ardeth reconsider again the possibility that Imhotep would ever find goodness. He was too angry, too injured and alone. Only if Evelyn reached out to him again…but she would never. Not if her life depended on it.

A car door slammed and the king's entourage left this depressing place behind. The seven jackals shifted on uneasy feet, hunger in their unearthly eyes as they watched their prisoners without growls or communication. Just malevolence. Evy held her head against her right arm as her crying continued—now as silent as their guardians—and Ardeth dared not interrupt. He would let her spend her grief here and now, and perhaps after that she would find the strength to go on until she could be saved.

Her dress was pretty, he noticed with eyes that welcomed her form warmly. She looked soft and queenly, gentle and rich. Her title (if not her husband) befitted her and Ardeth leaned his head against his left post, watching tears fall from her downcast eyes. There wasn't any more to be said. They knew the love each held for the other, they knew the promises made and the good-byes. All that was left for him was to watch her live and pray for her future. And despite the odds, he knew she would make it. She was so strong, so wonderfully compassionate and endlessly good of character and she didn't even know it. Not by half. But he knew it. He took hope from it.

~~~~~~~

Was he sleeping? Had he died? Those dark eyes held hers no more. Behind the young slave of Imhotep he stood, his eyes resting upon his former friend's blessed face. No, of course he had not died. He would not unless he took his own life. Imhotep was a great fool to test this.

The shadowy creature clutched the Staff of Osiris with whispery hands that hungered to open the weapon into its true form—a spear said to have been gifted to the very first priest of Osiris, used to slay the wicked servants of dark gods over the many years that had crossed this earth. The seven jackals were gone by his sorcery. It would take but a moment for him to open the staff and just another moment still for the sharp edge to pierce the heart of Heaven's Chosen. Then Ardeth would be dead and with him, the future. Or it would be in a _perfect_ world. In a world that did not see this man protected from death. But this would not stop him from seeing his plans complete. He would willingly be the intervention that kept Ardeth from again crossing over.

When he himself ruled, he would not rule a land of the living. No, Necromancer had no desire for that. He wanted simple rest away from this wretched existence and the world he would take and shape would become a place of the dead. All would succumb and all would suffer the same fate. The earth would be nothing more than a great mausoleum where only the unliving walked. And he would be the master. _So much for the great Med-Jai Chieftain._ Sajul would lead where Ardeth would never.

But the time had not yet come for such a vision to be born. Necromancer snarled in contempt and the slave-woman stirred, life still clinging to her worn body. He hated his need of Ardeth Bay, but consoled himself with his reverie of the future. The Med-Jai's time would come and he would fail.

So he accepted what he must for the time being and trailed through the sand to face the woman who would aide him in his task. Evelyn Carnahan had awakened and was now searching the earth for whatever had brought her from her sleep. Her confusion ended as soon as he stepped into her field of vision. So long ago he might have felt sorry for the part she would play. She had suffered already so much terror and to perish in so violent a manner would have seemed a shame to a Sajul that cared for life, for pretty women and for his brother-warrior.

Necromancer paced before her with his hood drawn, shadow hiding his face from hers. She was truly mesmerizing with her frightened eyes and he stopped and crouched before her, drawn to wonder what about her held his friend's soul so captive. A cold hand found her cheek as unseen eyes drank in all she was. "Whore of Imhotep," he greeted, laughing as she looked away without will to defend herself. The torment written on her heart was grave.

"Wh-who are you?" she stammered prettily, shrinking back as his pallid fingers trailed to her throat. The temptation to seize such a pretty neck and snap it assailed him, but to do so would be folly. This woman would help him, would betray her lover by helping him.

Nefertiri feared things from him that no longer held sway, however, and Necromancer was polite enough to remove his hand from her quivering flesh. "I am a friend," he lied plainly. The lovely slave shook within the cold mist that sprinkled her and he smiled. "I have come to help you, Nefertiri."

The Carnahan woman flinched back at the use of her ancient name, but nevertheless remained strong under his gaze. "Help me how exactly?" she asked in a wary voice. Oh, how right she was to not trust him.

Unable to resist touching that which belonged to Ardeth for the simple fact that it was his, and daring to feel the life radiating from her without permission, Necromancer found his hand once more upon her face, stroking those lovely, full lips with envy. He had once felt passion. Had once desired that which was Ardeth's, though not so personally as this creature. But cold was his passion now and Arya was no longer within his reach. But this fair creature, causing her to hurt Ardeth would bring him almost as much pleasure as having his sister may have been once upon a time. This woman despised his touch even more than she did her master's.

"I have come to set you free," he told her, thinking of the blood beneath her fair skin. He was growing too hungry for death. This would have to be done swiftly. "But of you I ask a price. A simple price, one you will enjoy paying." Evelyn looked down, afraid of what that price would be and he rasped to himself in consideration. "You know Ardeth's goal and all I ask is that you keep him from it. Take him from this place and hide him away. Distract him with your love. Have children and stay away from Imhotep's madness. Forsake the world."

At that she stiffened and he hissed expectantly, knowing the turmoil that would now stir within her spirit. A tempting bargain, no doubt. One that she would be unable to hold to, if he knew Ardeth well enough, but in the end an action that would do more harm than good. For it would be she that helped strip his goodness. He would want to save the world and she would beg him to stay behind. In that Ardeth would be harmed, for his heart would have to betray either her or the earth. Necromancer bled suggestiveness into his low voice, trying to carry the ease of such a choice to her heart. "Will you do this, Nefertiri? Will you keep him safe and make him forget the troubles around? There are places where you may live together, alone with your love and untroubled."

Her dark eyes flickered to her lover that hung across from them, uncertain for she knew Ardeth's heart as well. She wanted what Necromancer was suggesting. One more thing and she would agree, he knew. One more phrase would convince her. "He has suffered so."

The guilt returned to her stature, drawing her down, weighing her with the shame of selfishness. In doing for him, she would betray him and he would go on to serve Necromancer's purposes when his brother discovered what she was doing. "You'll let us go?" she asked in a small, hopeful voice. "But why…why do you…?"

"Shhh," Necromancer soothed, resting his hand on her side and drawing it softly up her arm. He found the metal cuff holding her captive and held it in waiting. "I only want for him to find peace. I was once a friend and it pains me to see him suffer. Please, good woman. Take this burden from him. It is too much for him to bear."

The cuff snapped with his strength and her right arm was freed, followed shortly by her left. Nefertiri sat for a long moment on her knees, rubbing her pained wrists and thinking through his words. He had won. When she looked up into his hooded face, he knew it. "I'll try," she answered finally and that was all he needed. Necromancer turned from her quickly and hastened to Ardeth. When he touched his brother-warrior he could feel sickness burning in his body. It made him sneer in satisfaction as he unlocked him and let him drop to the sand. Bay groaned in pain and in mere seconds Evelyn was at his side with comforting hands.

Necromancer said nothing as he turned away, giving them their privacy. Ardeth would continue on, kept safe until the proper time. The creature had done what he had set out to do, what destiny had called of him, but soon the time would come when he would turn on fate and change it. "Rest for a season," he whispered gently, turning back to see Nefertiri aid the faltering warrior to his feet. It was a sweet sight, one that filled Sajul with hate. "And when destiny calls, my friend, it will fail you." 

And then he would die.

~~~~~~~****

**Disclaimer**: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

**A/N**: :-O I can't believe it's over! *drops to the floor* How did I do??

**To Reviewers**: 

Please note, there will be a thank-you page uploaded in another week or so to thank everyone who reviewed this last chapter! Thanks!

Unfortunately, due to silliness, ff.net has deleted all the lovely reviews from the last week or two. *lesigh* So, I'm just gonna have to settle for thanking everyone in a general sort of manner. Thanks to all of you awesome reviewers for following this story!!! You guys are great and made me very happy to be a fanfiction writer!! You ALL rock and I thank you all for your thoughts, good or bad. :-D

-Angela

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